Eyes on Boston
by Nev827
Summary: When 3XK strikes in Boston, Castle, Beckett, and Lanie travel north to help Jane, Maura, Frost and Korsak work the case.  Little do Beckett and Jane know that this investigation will have more far reaching consequences than either expected.
1. Chapter 1

Boston Police Department Homicide Detective Jane Rizzoli and her partner Barry Frost climbed wearily out of their squad car and tried to shake off the bone-chilling cold air that met them. Jane had lived in Boston her whole life and just as she began to think she was used to its normally frigid winters, Mother Nature made her think again. She shivered against her long wool coat and gripped a large cup of steaming coffee in both hands for warmth, as she sought out the Medical Examiner, her friend Dr. Maura Isles, who, as usual, not only was dressed like a million bucks, but seemed impervious to the cold. At least it looked that way. As Frost conferred with some uniformed cops, Maura caught Jane's eye and signaled her over to where the body lay.

"Morning, Jane," Maura cheerfully greeted her friend. While the two had built a good friendship despite being opposites in many ways, she also knew Jane had a prickly personality, especially when awakened early in the morning, so she tried to be gentle. "How are you?"

"It's cold as the Arctic out here, I'm running on five hours sleep and this coffee tastes like crap," Jane spat back.

"Ah. So, you're pretty good then?" Maura answered sarcastically.

Jane figured out what Maura was doing and turned apologetic while simultaneously shivering. They'd gotten to know each other so well that frequently they only needed to exchange looks instead of talking. "I'm sorry for biting your head off, but it's really cold out here, so can we please get on with it?"

"Got it," Maura retreated and turned back to the body of a young blonde woman who was neatly laid out in an alley. But a thought struck her first.

"You miss him don't you?" She inquired.

"Excuse me?" Jane was incredulous and highly annoyed at Maura's persistence.

"Oh, Jane, please. We both know who I'm talking about."

"Maura, did I not just tell you how NOT in the mood for games I am, so can you please tell me what in the hell you're talking about?"

When the chief medical examiner merely titled her head and fixed Jane with the earnest stare she reserved only for their romantic talks, Jane suddenly realized what she was getting at. And it was the last thing she wanted to discuss. She exhaled sharply in frustration. "I do not miss him."

"Ok," Maura responded flatly.

"I do not miss Gabriel Dean!" Jane insisted. "In the last year, we've worked only a few cases together. We work them, we solve them, we go back to our lives. End of story."

"Then why are you twirling your hair?" Maura said confidently.

Unconsciously, Jane had wrapped a few strands of her dark wavy locks around her gloved index finger and had been twisting them. She stopped instantaneously and grew more agitated at the fact that Maura had seen right through her. "I'm cold and, as you have never missed the opportunity to point out in the past, I fidget."

"I seem to remember also pointing out in the past that hair twirling is a sign of-"

"Maura!" Jane interrupted. On one case they had worked together, Jane's first after being wounded trying to stop a hostage standoff at the station, Maura had rather indelicately made Jane aware of how hair twirling was a sign of sexual frustration. "Can we please drop all talk about my lack of a sex life and get back to the dead woman in the alley?"

Sensing she had gotten her point across sufficiently, Maura retreated, but couldn't resist a last jab.

"Whatever you want. Just don't blame me when the ulcerative colitis hits you."

Jane shot her friend a stare even icier than the air surrounding them that even shivered Frost, who had rejoined them in time to catch Jane's death look and who was used to being on the receiving end of such looks. He backed off slightly and buttoned his mouth.

"Don't you ever get cold out here, especially wearing that outfit?" Jane continued to bellyache, in an effort to change the subject, and referencing Maura's three-inch stilettos, quintessential "little black dress," and stylish white wool coat that barely reached her knees.

"I used to. Then I just trained my mind to imagine that I'm someplace warmer. Behavioral conditioning. You should try it. Plus, just because it's cold doesn't mean I need to look like I just rolled out of bed," Maura answered, being careful to keep the edge off her voice. Jane was also touchy about her outward appearance. She was, no doubt, an attractive woman, but being a woman in a largely man's world, she tamped down her looks to let her work speak for itself. "Besides, I'm comfortable in this kind of outfit," Maura finished.

"You're probably the only one," Jane mumbled under her breath and crouched over the dead young woman who was the reason for everyone's sojourn into the cold Boston night.

"Are you two done?" Frost asked nervously. He knew not to cross Jane when she was in a mood, but the cold weather overruled the side of his mind that told him to use caution. "'Cause it's not getting any warmer, you know."

"Right. Beth Ferguson, thirty-two years old, her driver's license address indicates she lives only a few blocks from here. Based on level of rigor and body temperature, I'd guess she's been dead about six hours." Maura ticked off.

"That means she died between 11p.m. and midnight. Who found her?"

"Garbage men."

"Nice to know she was missed," Jane mused sarcastically. "Judging by the marks on her neck I'm guessing she was strangled?"

"You guessed right. All indications are the killer came up behind her and wrapped a rope or cord around her neck." Maura finished making notations on a form attached to clipboard she held in her left hand and stood. "Then he laid her out like this."

Jane studied the corpse waiting for any little detail on the body to jump out at her. She was an attractive woman, blonde, petite-looking, dressed well so she must have had some kind of career. But something Maura had said was nagging at her.

"Could those markings on her neck have been made by a nylon cord?" Jane asked, hoping not to hear a lengthy exposition on the different markings left by varying kinds of materials that are useful for strangling someone.

"It's possible. But I won't know for sure until I get her back to the lab and test any fibers on her. You want me to look for anything in particular?" Maura asked, sensing Jane was on to something.

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind. Check and see if the cord used was nylon and composed of two different colored fibers. Hey, Frost? Does this MO look familiar to you?" She was almost positive she knew the answer, but was hoping Frost could confirm it for her.

Her partner yellowed slightly, but persevered in studying the corpse. Telling himself that blood and guts were nowhere to be seen, he swallowed and steadied himself in an effort to relax. Barry Frost's propensity for getting sick at the sight of dead bodies while working as a homicide detective was almost legendary happy hour fodder amongst anyone working in the Boston PD.

"Young blonde woman, strangled, laid out as if she's in a casket," Frost thought out loud. Then realization hit him like a ton of bricks. "Holy crap. You don't think…"

"Yeah, I do." Jane answered.

"Castle, Beckett? A word?" Captain Van Buren leaned around the door jamb of her office and called for the 12th precinct's best homicide detective and her shadow.

Beckett peered around her computer monitor, but before she could answer, her petite but tough superior officer had ducked back into her office. Beckett shot Castle, who was sitting in his usual chair next to her desk and making a bouncy ball out of rubber bands while she did paperwork, a look of worry mixed with trepidation.

"Don't look at me," Castle defended himself. "I swear I haven't done anything wrong…that I'm aware of."

Ever since Anita Van Buren had taken over as Captain of the 12th precinct in the wake of Captain Roy Montgomery's death and Beckett's shooting by a hitman, Rick and Beckett had felt as if they were walking on egg shells. From the beginning, Van Buren had made it clear she wasn't thrilled about their partnership, but being a dedicated cop, she had promised to let their work continue because of their high case closure rate. It didn't hurt that the Mayor was still supportive of Rick Castle's shadowing Beckett and it brought the department, and in particular the 12th and Van Buren herself, continued good publicity, Beckett thought skeptically. The woman was tough and uncompromising, but outside the walls of the station, she fully supported her people. The problem was "her people" didn't technically include Castle, so she had informed him in the days after Montgomery's funeral, while Beckett lay in intensive care recovering from a high-powered rifle shot to the chest, that he had better be serious or else she'd waste no time kicking him to the curb. Castle had the distinct impression that she saw him as partially to blame for Montgomery's death and Beckett's wounding.

Beckett rolled her eyes and rose from her desk chair. Castle playfully balanced the rubber band ball he had created on one of Beckett's white elephants between its forehead and trunk and eagerly followed the detective. They entered Van Buren's office and were surprised to find Beckett's good friend, Medical Examiner Lanie Parrish sitting in one of the chairs facing the Captain's desk wearing a serious look.

"Lanie, what are you doing here?" Beckett asked, her concern deepening.

"We'll get to that, Detective," Van Buren said coolly. "Have a seat you both." They obeyed as Van Buren pulled a file folder from her desk and passed it over to Beckett.

"We got a call from the Boston PD this morning. Apparently they had a homicide fall into their lap with a familiar MO."

Beckett studied the crime scene photos in which a young, attractive blonde woman, who had clearly been strangled, had been laid out in a funereal pose in an alley. Castle looked over Beckett's left shoulder and Lanie over her right. The ME gave a quiet gasp, while Castle's heart skipped a beat and Beckett's brow furrowed in concentration mixed with a hint of frustration.

She, Castle, and her squad members, Detectives Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito, had been terribly close to catching the serial killer known as 3XK a year and a few months ago. At the time going by the name Jerry Tyson, he had framed someone else as the killer and when Ryan and Castle figured out his deception, had held both as hostages, albeit after knocking Ryan unconscious. Castle had stared confidently into the eyes of evil that night and had come a hair trigger away from leaving his daughter Alexis without a father, his mother, Martha without a son, and Beckett without a partner. But to his surprise, Jerry had left him tied up and simply melted away into the New York City night with the promise of changing his name and his looks so as not to be found in the future. Beckett and Esposito had arrived literally minutes after his departure. It was the first time in many years that Beckett had left a case unsolved and as much as it ate at her, other cases with better leads began to command her attention, so the 3XK murders went back to cold case file storage.

"Do they have any leads?" Beckett asked.

"Not a one, but as you can imagine, they're eager to get rolling on this investigation and can use all the help they can get. That's where you all come in.

Castle and Beckett traded knowing looks, sensing what was coming. "Ryan and Esposito will hold down the fort here and keep working your open cases. Anything new that comes in, we'll deal with. Dr. Parrish, the Chief ME has agreed to give you a week's leave to help as well, since you're the one who most recently pulled all of 3XK's cases. It's all hands on deck here, so your insight could prove valuable."

Castle studied his Blackberry and began mentally to shift around any book-related commitments on his schedule. Fortunately, it was a rather light week. "When do you want us to leave?"

"Us? You're not going anywhere, Mr. Castle. You're shadowing Detective Beckett under the guise and protection of the New York Police Department. That protection does not extend to Boston. And even if you did get on a plane with Detective Beckett and Dr. Parrish, Boston PD would be fully within their rights to turn you around and send you back home."

Castle looked completely deflated, but Beckett quickly jumped to his defense. "With all due respect, Captain Van Buren, according to Ryan it was Castle who was the one who figured out Jerry Tyson was 3XK in the first place. He's the one who went toe-to-toe with him, got a good look at his face, guessed at what makes him tick. His insight would be invaluable in my opinion." Van Buren still remained unmoved. "I'll refer to him as a consultant with the department rather than as my shadow if I think it'll smooth things over."

"It's not like I just fell off the turnip truck in investigating murders either. And don't forget I'm well versed in psychopathic methodologies and…"

"Oh for God's sake, save it, Mister Mystery Author. I'm familiar with your bio."

"Really?" Castle's eyes brightened instantly, as if he was ten and had been shown a pile of birthday presents.

"Yes!" Van Buren cut him off. "You can go, Mr. Castle, but listen up you two. I've heard stories about what happens when you both wander off the reservation." They all knew she was talking about Castle's tagging along with Beckett when she hopped a plane to Los Angeles to investigate the murder of her former training officer and in the process broke into a suspect's house. "But this is different. You'll be working _in concert_ with our colleagues from Boston, so if _any_ funny business goes on, I _will_ hear about it. I'm sure you can imagine what hell will break loose when the press down here gets wind of this, so I'll be checking in with you periodically on how the investigation is progressing. Are we clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Beckett and Castle answered in unison.

Van Buren checked her watch. "It's noon now, so you guys have an hour or so to go home, get packed and be at the airport for your three o'clock flight. Boston PD's taken care of it."

Everyone's eyes shot up at the fact that a large municipal police department had so readily coughed up the money for three people to travel north for what could be only a few day's work. At least they all hoped it would be that short.

"Dr. Parrish, you've got your marching orders, from the ME I take it?"

"I do."

"Good. Do me a favor, if you would?" Van Buren leaned back in her desk chair and spoke as if Castle and Beckett were long gone. "Keep an additional eye on these two."

"I'll do my best, Captain," Lanie promised, a corner or her mouth ticking upward in a smirk. Oh this is gonna be fun, she thought.

"Thank you. Good luck you three." They made their way towards the exit of the office, but stopped when Van Buren piped up one last time. "Oh by the way, the Detective of record on the murder is named Jane Rizzoli."


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi everyone. It's Monday and that not only means a new Castle episode, but a new chapter of this story. _

_Thanks so much to all of you who put a story alert on this or who sent me a review. It was especially nice to hear from a few of you who have been looking for a Castle/Rizzoli and Isles crossover to be published. That was the case with me and so I wrote one! _

_I know the first chapter was basically setting the scene, but in this chapter we actually have the New Yorkers interacting with the Bostonians. I hope you all think my writing of their interactions is realistic. _

_On a side note, the site administrator of has put together a Castle Convention to be held in Los Angeles in November. Tickets went on sale last night, so if you'd like to attend, visit the site and follow the clearly marked link. Some VERY special guests from the show have already committed to attend, so it should be awesome!_

_And with that said, here is chapter 2! Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>"How are we supposed to recognize this Detective Rizzoli?" Castle asked as the three plodded through Boston's busy Logan Airport terminal with luggage in tow.<p>

"Can't be that hard, Castle. Just look for a woman in plain clothes, wearing a badge, and carrying."

"Well, airports are big places, Detective," Castle chided. "And what if there was some kind of female homicide detective convention going on in Boston this week. Ooh, there's a thought…" And Castle drifted off into his own world to the extent that he nearly collided with a woman hurrying to make a flight and carrying a baby in her arms.

Beckett rolled her eyes. "If there was such an organization, then how come I, Karpowski, and all my female colleagues have never been invited to their conventions?"

"Relax, honey," Lanie put in, amused but trying to reign in the writer and detective's bickering. She never tired of watching them verbally go at each other, mainly because she knew both were in serious denial about being attracted to each other. In addition, travelling was never one of her favorite things, so she was eager to get to wherever the Boston PD had arranged for them to stay. "Maybe she'll recognize you guys. It's not like you're both not famous or anything."

"Now that'd be a great place to do research," Castle continued mumbling to himself.

Beckett rolled her eyes again and added a grumble as they exited the terminal. If this is what she had to look forward to for the next few days, Castle was gonna have to bring her something a lot stronger than coffee every morning.

They were only on the curb a few minutes when an unmarked squad car pulled up and a tall, thin, attractive woman with long dark wavy hair and Mediterranean features greeted them.

"Detective Beckett?"

"That's me. Detective Rizzoli?"

She nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She shook Beckett's hand solidly. "And since you've traveled all this way to help on this case, the least I can ask of you is to call me Jane."

"Then you can call me Kate." As Beckett introduced Jane to Lanie, she sized up her sister-in-arms. She had an obvious athletic build, earnest, intense eyes, wore little or no makeup, her hair was slightly unkempt and her dark suit seemed a little too big in size. So she's dedicated to the point where personal appearance doesn't matter so much, meaning one of two things, she concluded: either her police work is as shabby as her looks or she doesn't have too many female colleagues so tries to fly under the radar and let her work be what gets noticed. Seeing no ring on her left hand, Beckett figured she isn't married, meaning she's probably a workaholic. She also thought she felt a funny lump in Jane's palm when they shook.

Jane studied Beckett as well. Certainly an attractive woman…athletic…not married, but probably has one hunk of a man at her beck and call back home…gives off a strong presence that either demands respect or is just ego… those heels…how the heck does she do anything in those heels?...and intelligent empathetic eyes. The petite medical examiner seemed much the same, except for a tinge of sarcastic humor in her voice. Then Jane noticed a hulk of a very handsome man with bright blue eyes and a warm face standing behind the women. Where had she seen him before? Whoever he was, he was watching her intently. Oh God, not another one who enjoys undressing female cops with his eyes.

"I'm sorry, can I help you?" She impatiently opened up on him.

"Oh, uh, this is Richard Castle. He consults with the NYPD from time to time and did so when I first worked the 3XK case a year ago." Kate filled her in.

"You're the one he held hostage," Jane guessed.

"At your service," Castle beamed and offered his hand in a friendly shake. "I also do a little murder mystery writing on the side." He puffed out his chest a little and waited for any sign of realization to come over Jane, but was sadly disappointed.

"Really," Jane said, not bothering to mask her disinterest. He's one of these so-called crime experts who weasel their way into a police department for several months of research so they can write a tell-all book on what's it's really like on "the inside" and expose all closely held investigative secrets and techniques to the bad guys. Great, she thought. "Let me help you guys with your stuff." Leaving Castle standing slack-jawed on the curb, she popped the trunk of her car and helped Lanie and Beckett load their bags. Once he recovered, Castle added his and sent a lost-puppy look to Beckett who only grinned in response.

"Dr. Parrish, the Chief Boston Medical Examiner Dr. Maura Isles will meet us at the precinct. She had an autopsy she was particularly excited to perform." Jane blinked a few extra times telegraphing her confusion over why such things got Maura's blood running.

"You can call me Lanie and I totally understand. As you know, it's part of the job, except for the whole excitement thing. I mean I find it interesting and all, but exciting isn't the word I would choose."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one," Jane sighed as they all climbed in the car.

* * *

><p>On the drive between the airport and the precinct, Jane filled the group from New York in on what they knew about the victim so far and how she had left Frost at the precinct running a standard background check on Beth Ferguson: any prior arrests, financial records, employment, and phone call history. In turn, Castle, Beckett and Lanie told Jane their knowledge of 3XK: he was male, late twenties or early thirties though he was likely to change his appearance; had grown up without a father, raised by a mother who was blonde and attractive, but who did not want him; had a terrible experience in foster care growing up and kills as a way of taking out his frustration against the mother who never cared for him, but whom he also loved. He is highly intelligent and may pose as a police officer since he took Ryan's badge and service piece. He killed three victims per week for two weeks five years ago then disappeared only to resurface last October. His MO is to study the habits of his targets then to pose as a deliveryman or repairman of some kind to work his way into his victim's apartment buildings without arousing suspicion then force his way into their units, strangle the victim with the nylon cord, then lay the dead body out in a funereal pose. When Jane described how their victim was found in an alley, Beckett and Castle weren't surprised since one of their victims had also been found in alley, but only because she had made 3XK on an elevator in her apartment and he knew she would never let him in the building willingly.<p>

Once at the precinct, Jane introduced Frost and Korsak to Castle, Beckett, and Lanie. Frost was shorter than Jane, younger-looking, African-American, and had a personality that was definitely a lot less intense, but seemed sharp and was obviously loyal to his partner. To Jane's dismay, and Beckett's amusement, he also fell all over himself when he first caught a glimpse of Castle. Korsak was much older, grayer, with a goatee and moustache and was built like a linebacker. Beckett also couldn't help but notice the sex-ray she got from a tall, tan, and well-built cop in plain clothes whose desk, unfortunately, was not far from Jane's.

"Don't mind him," Korsak reassured. "Hey Crowe, whatsamatter? They're NYPD not bikini models. Now put your nose back in your case file."

"Don't worry. I know the type," Beckett said and noticed Jane's face warm slightly. Finally, someone who knows what it's like, Jane thought.

"So what have you got so far?" Beckett inquired.

"Maura called while you all were out. It was definitely a three- strand twisted quarter-inch rope of green and white nylon cord that was used to strangle our victim." Frost paused to let enormity of the find sink in.

"Just like in the other nine murders," Lanie breathed. Everyone nodded severely.

"We don't have much on the killer's identity. There's a 24-hour corner market near that alley that has a decent view of its entrance. Tech gurus pulled the footage and blew it up, but all we could make out was a hooded figure, about average height in a dark jacket and dark clothing exiting the alley around the time of death."

"You guys don't have traffic cams?" Beckett asked hopefully.

"State legislature has held up the funding because of the economy and concerns about 'Big Brother,'" Frost said, obviously annoyed.

"Don't get me started," Jane hissed.

"So, on to our victim," Frost changed the subject. "Beth Ferguson, age 32, moved into town the beginning of November last year, no immediate family, no husband, no kids, worked as a psychologist in a small practice here in town. Made decent money, no priors, not even a traffic ticket." Frost recited.

"Timeline of her move was around when 3XK dropped off the map. What about before she moved here?" Castle asked.

"That's where it gets interesting," Frost cocked an eyebrow and passed Jane a file which she shared with Beckett, Castle, and Lanie. "Before coming here, she lived in your backyard under the name Karyn Parks." The group looked surprised, but Frost kept on. "It gets better. She worked as a professional counselor there, but specialized in treating kids in foster care."

Despite the typical police station buzz that surrounded them, all felt the air slowly get sucked out of the room. "Well, given her age, it's not possible that she ever actually treated 3XK," Lanie realized.

"True, but she could have read about it in the papers and thought she could help him. Sought him out, realized she was in over her head after he started killing again and ran here to hide and changed her name." Castle offered.

"This guy is way too smart for it to be that simple, but Castle's got an idea worth working on," Beckett said.

"I get those every once in a while," Castle said, clearly proud of himself.

Jane looked at Beckett and Lanie, silently saying "Is he for real?" behind Castle's back. In return she got a simultaneous head nod.

"Well, living in the Fenway-Kenmore area is a good place for a young psychologist," Jane said, looking at things from a different angle.

"Right. Lots of stressed out, drug-addled college students. It's a good alternate theory." Castle observed.

"No, it's a good _theory_," Jane corrected sharply. She didn't care how much this guy thought he knew about murder investigations. They were all on her turf and she refused to give much ground. At least Beckett didn't seem so interested in proving out her theories.

"Is that the neighborhood where Fenway Park is located?" Beckett asked and Jane nodded. "That also makes sense, especially if she wanted to fly a little under the radar. It'd be easy to disappear in the crowds that show up regularly for games or who just want to see such a historic stadium."

"Ok, why don't Kate and I head to Ms. Ferguson's office and interview her co-workers while, Frost, you go with Mr. Castle and canvas her building. See what you can find out about her habits, what hours she kept, did she have many friends, a boyfriend, you know the drill."

"Ooh, guys versus girls, huh? Bet we get more information than you do." Castle practically shrieked with glee, causing Jane to freeze as she donned her long winter coat, drop her head backwards, shut her eyes and silently ask the heavens what she'd done to deserve being saddled with someone so obnoxious. Before she could prepare any kind of retort, Maura finally arrived.

"Sorry I'm late everyone," She chirped, smiling brightly. "I'm Dr. Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner."

Jane introduced Maura to Lanie and Beckett, but to her great chagrin, Maura's eyes flew open when Castle extended his hand. "Mr. Castle, I am a great admirer of your work. Your writing's authenticity is second-to-none."

"Why thank you, Doctor. It is always a pleasure to meet such intelligent, enthusiastic fans." Beckett and Lanie were sure the floor would cave in from the weight of Castle's swelled head, but managed to suppress their thoughts. Jane, not so much.

"You read his books?" Jane was dubious. "I thought you only read scientific journals and publications with words a mile long written half in Latin."

"We all need some form of an escape," Maura answered her friend. "Just like some read bodice rippers, I read Derek Storm or Nikki Heat."

At the comparison of his books to trashy dime store romance novels, the immense pride left Castle's face faster than a leopard could chase his prey. Beckett bit her bottom lip so hard to keep from unleashing a belly laugh that she thought it would start bleeding, while Lanie had to turn away and cover her mouth.

"Speaking of Nikki Heat, you're her inspiration, aren't you Detective Beckett?" Maura asked.

Kate flushed in sudden embarrassment. "It's Kate. And yes, I am."

Maura nodded and flicked a look back and forth between Beckett and her partner, who Maura couldn't help but notice was quite a catch. Beckett felt herself redden even further.

"Well, we should be going," Jane said to Beckett's relief.

"Right," Maura said. "Follow me and I'll show you our lab and corpse, Dr. Parrish."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks again for all your story alerts and reviews. I really appreciate all of them. _

_Now with chapter 3, we set the stage a bit for what's to come. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>So Beckett and Jane took off in Jane's squad car, Frost and Castle headed out in Frost's, and Maura escorted Lanie to the morgue.<p>

Almost as soon as Jane and Beckett had pulled into traffic, Jane couldn't help herself.

"Can I ask you a question?" She asked and Beckett agreed. "How in hell can you work with that man? He's got an ego the size of Fenway Park itself!"

Beckett fought back the urge to chuckle. "Practice. And he's really not that bad once you get to know him."

"How long has he been consulting with the department exactly?"

"It'll be three years in the spring. And to be honest, and since you'll probably find out eventually, he is a consultant, but he mainly just shadows me and my squad for research for Nikki Heat."

Beckett filled Jane in on how she met Castle: a copycat was imitating the murders he had written into his books and Beckett had invited him to help out with the investigation. Once the investigation was over and they had closed the case, he decided to create a character based on her since he had killed off his popular character Derek Storm and had since been suffering from a nasty case of writer's block.

"Is he any good? I mean, is it worth the aggravation of having him around?" Jane asked.

"Actually, it is. He looks at investigations from a different perspective which has resulted in some tricky cases being solved. He even put up several thousand dollars of his own money to help me solve a…cold case I've been working on for a long time," Beckett paused, trying to hide the drop in her voice. There was no way she was going to tell this woman, tough cop as she seemed, about her mother's murder, at least not until she got to her much better. Plus, she had a job to do in Boston and she wanted to keep her mind clear of distractions. "He is kinda funny too, albeit in a childish way. If he teases you, just tease him right back. He's a pretty easy mark."

Jane listened to Beckett and could feel the specter of envy, even jealousy, growing within her. Clearly, there was something more between these two than just a partnership. It was all too evident in the school-girl gleam that crossed over Beckett's eyes as she described Rick Castle. It was also clear that she was hiding something about her past. The way she paused when talking about that cold case made it all too plain.

"So he's funny, smart, and judging by the watch he wears on his wrist, successful and wealthy," Jane began.

"So?"

"So I don't see a ring on your finger." She paused to let the comment sink in and when she saw that it'd had the desired effect, she continued. "What's stopping you? Or are you guys already…"

"We're not sleeping together," Beckett interrupted calmly, feeling a definite sense of déjà vu, except this time the question didn't make her nearly swallow her tongue. "He's divorced twice and I'm in a relationship."

"Too bad. If I didn't find him highly obnoxious, I'd consider him quite a catch. He isn't hiding a crazy Aunt Mildred or sociopathic kid at home is he?"

Beckett let herself laugh now. "Hardly. His daughter is a Stepford child and his mother…Well, let's just say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. But she's sweet and cares a ton about him and her granddaughter."

"So you've met his family?"

"Yeah. With Castle, you kinda get a three-for-one deal. They're all pretty close."

"Sounds like a great partner," Jane said. Beckett nodded and was momentarily lost in thought.

"What about you?" Beckett asked, figuring they'd focused on her long enough.

"Not much to tell. I've got a younger brother who walks a beat in town and who wants to be a detective. My Mom and Dad are divorcing, so naturally Mom drives me nuts since she now has a lot more free time on her hands, and I'm one of the few women in the division so that means I have to work my ass off even harder."

"Wow. Sorry about your parents," Beckett said. She contemplated whether or not to ask the last question on her mind since she had already revealed her relationship status. She got the vibe that Jane was not interested in sharing, but sensed that maybe if she broached the subject sensitively, she'd be open to it. Fair is fair. "Not to pry, but I don't see a ring on your finger."

Jane scoffed. "Please, you know what it's like: running down dark, cold, dirty alleys at all hours of the day and night, reviewing surveillance footage until your eyes cross. It's not a job that exactly lends itself to a normal relationship. Whatever normal is."

"True, but it can work if you're with the right person. Josh and I do have crazy schedules what with him being a cardiac surgeon and my doing what I do, as you know, but we make it work. We rely on texting half the time and can go days without seeing each other, but then again grieving families and heart attacks don't typically like to be kept waiting." Something stirred inside of Beckett as she talked, but she shoved the thoughts onto the back burner. There's no need to justify her admittedly less-than-ideal relationship to this woman who she barely knew.

"To be honest, every time it seems like it could work with someone, they get a job elsewhere and move on, they get intimidated by the fact that I carry a gun for a living, or they just want a kinky demonstration of how my handcuffs work." Both women laughed in solidarity as they pulled up to the curb outside a fairly upscale office building.

"This must be the place," she said and hurriedly exited the car. Beckett watched her for a minute then followed, sensing the subject was closed.

* * *

><p>"I gotta tell you," Barry Frost said, trying not to sound too star-struck. "I can't believe you're actually riding shotgun in my car to help me with an investigation."<p>

"Oh, it's all in a day's work," Castle said with a self-satisfied exhale. "Nothing like helping both New York's and Boston's finest take a seriously dangerous and disturbed killer off the streets."

"How'd you end up working with Detective Beckett anyway?"

Castle recounted his history with Beckett to Frost who listened intently while driving. "That's pretty cool," Frost said when Castle finished. "Did you two get along when you first met?"

Castle thought back to his first case with Beckett, remembering her need to be in control, her handcuffing him to her squad car, and her tweaking his nose when he didn't answer her questions to her satisfaction. "Not exactly," he finally answered. "Beckett is an amazing, intelligent woman, but she was kinda set in her ways at the time. Strictly followed the evidence and protocol."

"Well, protocol is protocol for a reason and evidence doesn't lie."

"Yeah, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying we break the rules or encouraging you to do so," Castle swallowed, quickly choosing to omit all the times he and Beckett had disobeyed Captain Montgomery's orders and gone investigating on their own. "But, it can be helpful to think about the murders as stories that have yet to be written." When Frost looked confused, Castle explained in more depth. "You come to a crime scene after a murder has been committed, at least hopefully." Frost chuckled at Castle's meaning. "So you take the scene that has been set and write the story backwards. What did such-and-such person do that resulted in the victim landing in that particular spot wearing what they were wearing with whatever objects they had in their pockets? Things like that. Combine that with knowledge of basic human tendencies of the characters involved and you'll eventually find yourself with an explanation about who did it."

"Interesting," Frost mused. "I never thought about it that way."

"I like to think it has helped Beckett, her team and I close some cases. Every once in a while she actually thanks me as opposed to threatening to shoot me." Castle joked.

"Really? She's a tough cookie then, huh?"

"She was when I met her and she still is, but looking back, she seems to have lightened up some. Anyway, in comparison to Rizzoli she's a definite softie."

"Ah, Jane's alright," Frost defended gently. "She's driven. She loves what she does and it has been tough for her, being a woman. You saw that guy who gave Detective Beckett the once-over back at the station didn't you? The one Korsak shot down?"

Castle remembered the guy and his insides squirmed a little bit. "Yeah. Crowe was it?"

"That's him. The reason Korsak was so hard on him is because when Jane first got to homicide, Crowe was basically the ringleader in hazing her. I mean I went through my share when I first got out of the academy and when I first became a detective, but from what I hear Crowe took it to a new level. There was one case where Korsak told me Crowe left a bunch of water bottles filled with tampons on Jane's desk. And that was the last thing she needed at the time too."

Seeing Castle's quizzical look, Frost described the Hoyt case and how it had nearly broken Jane, physically and mentally. "What a douche," Castle said at the end of the story. "I thought I felt something in her palm when we shook at the airport."

"It was tough, but she bounced back. Korsak was her partner then and the case was so hard on everyone that it gave him a heart attack. That's how she and I got to be partners. He was gonna retire, but he changed his mind, lost twenty pounds, agreed to regular physicals, and there he is. I'm glad though. He's been on the force since the Boston Strangler days. You can't buy that kind of institutional knowledge." An easy silence fell over the two men, so Frost switched gears. "So you and Beckett have been partners for a while?"

"Yeah."

"And you seem to be friends. I mean she's met your family, you hang out at that bar you own. Spend long hours working cases together…"

"Yeah. So?"

"Really? Do I have to spell it out for ya?"

"First of all, Beckett's in a relationship with someone. And while I have been down the aisle twice and my family does like her," Castle turned serious now, "I don't want to make another mistake. Beckett is…extraordinary. I wouldn't have based a character on her if I didn't think so. But, we've both got…baggage."

"Everyone has baggage."

"I know, but not like hers. And my wilder reputation does precede me."

Frost pulled his car into a parking spot in the lot of their victim's apartment building. He cut the engine and thought for a moment. "So that story about you and the police horse was true?" He asked.

"Unfortunately. But rest assured I will never treat an officer of the law with such disrespect again, regardless of how many legs it has."

Frost smiled and both men hopped out of the car.

* * *

><p>After Maura gave Lanie a tour of her lab and showed her their victim's corpse, they adjourned to Maura's spacious and eclectically furnished office. Over cups of tea, they talked some shop, Lanie complimented Maura on a lecture she once heard her give at a pathology conference years before, which Maura graciously accepted, and even traded fashion tips since Maura obviously had exquisite taste in clothes.<p>

To Lanie's surprise, they seemed to be getting along well. It would have been easy to peg Maura as cold and indifferent and overly methodical, not to mention somewhat socially awkward, but the more they talked, Lanie found her to have an odd, though logical, sense of humor and a real empathy for her clients and their families. In turn, Lanie was a breath of fresh air to Maura, who was used to seeing stodgy older white men as her counterparts. Not only was she tremendously intelligent, but direct with a razor sharp wit.

"So, which one of you is dating Mr. Castle?" Maura folded her hands and rested her chin on them.

"Oh, honey, that man only has eyes for Kate. Always has." Lanie explained. "Problem is, there's a roadblock the size of Hoover Dam keeping her from taking it to the next level. And the one time she almost confessed to him, his ex-wife shows up and he whisks her away to his house in The Hamptons for the summer so he can finish his book. They came back in the fall officially together. Once burned like that, it takes Kate a lot of time to open herself up to taking such a risk again."

"So she closes herself off to anything that may make her happy to avoid being hurt even in the slightest?" Maura guessed.

"Right on, Doctor," Lanie raised her cup in salute to Maura's profiling of Beckett, and took a long drink. "That man has been one of the few bright spots in her life since they've been working together."

"I read the article in Cosmopolitan on both of them. Has there been any progress on her mom's case?"

Lanie recounted the most recent developments in the murder case of Johanna Beckett in which Kate's captain and mentor, Roy Montgomery, had sacrificed himself to protect her from conspirators who were trying to keep secret the fact that decades before, NYPD cops, including himself, had been controlling crime by kidnapping and ransoming mobsters. Montgomery's associates at the time had accidentally killed an undercover FBI Agent and framed a mobster for the crime. Kate's mother, a lawyer, had begun to put together an appeal of the man's conviction, but was murdered by the conspirators to keep the entire episode quiet. Johanna Beckett's death had been the driving reason why Kate became a cop. She almost ruined her life trying to solve the murder that went cold for years until Castle helped her find the hitman who did the deed. Unfortunately, Kate had to fatally shoot him before she could discover who he was working for.

"No wonder she won't ask him out," Maura concluded. "She's spent most of her life living in such fear of what she'll find about herself when she does solve her mother's murder that she's adopted it as a lifestyle. She doesn't know anything else so if a relationship scares her, she won't act on it, but won't shut it down completely either. Instead she'll act on something with someone she knows subconsciously she has no future with so she can't be scared with him, but at the same time she keeps the man who scares her around."

Lanie sat slack-jawed in her chair facing Maura behind her desk. "Wow. If you ever decide to change careers, you should become a psychologist. Because you pretty much hit my Katie on the head. Alright, what's Detective Rizzoli's deal?"

"Classic inferiority complex," Maura said without batting an eye. "Her brothers were her parents' favorite, especially her mother, so she spent a lot of time on her own, thus her strong independent streak and need to be in control at all times. And she became a cop so she could show up all the boys who used to pick on her and demonstrate to her mother that she's on an equal plain with her brothers. That feeling of always being inferior and not good enough also translates to her work. She's a workaholic, so she never has time for much of a social life, including dating. It doesn't help that her being a tomboy, as a result of that need to be seen as equal to boys, doesn't give off a good impression. Plus, men find women who perform the same jobs as they do threatening, especially those as smart and dedicated as Jane. Then there's the Hoyt case."

"I think I read about that," Lanie thought for a moment. "Crazy sonuvabitch who fixated on Jane, right?"

"Yep. He's the only nut that Jane hasn't been able to crack. And he scarred her both physically and mentally. What's worse, Korsak's the one who found her broken and bloody and at her most vulnerable. That's a side of Jane that she doesn't like to reveal."

"Sounds familiar." Lanie smiled knowingly. "Sounds like Jane just hasn't found the right guy. Just like Kate before Castle entered the picture."

Maura smiled and finished off her tea then leaned forward on her desk. "Actually, there is this FBI Agent Jane has serious chemistry with, but," Maura shrugged, "the fear and inferiority complex always rear their ugly heads."

Lanie thought hard for a long moment. "You know, I think those two could be of help to each other way beyond just this case."


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks for the continued reviews on this story everyone. We get away from the case some in this chapter, and I think you Caskett shippers will be happy. Enjoy! And don't forget to watch Castle tonight for what sounds like it's going to be an intense episode._

* * *

><p>"Beth was a good doctor," Beth Ferguson's now-former practice partner, Peter Pierce, a distinguished, gentle-looking man in his sixties, told Beckett and Jane. "She never took much time off. And even came in on weekends to meet with patients if that's the only time they had available. It's such a loss."<p>

"Were you aware of any threats or weird phone calls Dr. Ferguson had gotten since she joined your practice?" Jane asked.

"Nothing from any patients." Pierce answered. "We monitor them pretty closely once they stop treatment. There's even a social worker we have who checks in on them if we think they need extra help."

"What about boyfriends? Was she dating anyone that you knew of?" Jane continued.

"No boyfriends, but she did have a creep of an ex-husband," Beckett and Jane exchanged looks and listened closer. "I guess that's why she changed her name. I knew she wanted to start over, but good grief. When she got here in town she was fine. I think she dated here and there, but once she built up a reputation amongst her patients, she started getting more and more referrals and didn't have the time. She never got serious with anyone, so she eventually gave it up. But about a month ago, I noticed she seemed on edge. Initially, she just told me she hadn't been sleeping well, but one night we were both working late finishing updating patient files before knocking off and I overheard her in her office yelling at someone. I knew it was none of my business, but I was concerned about her. It's so easy to take advantage of young women on their own these days, so I look out for her. That's one reason we were both working late that night. I never like to let her leave the building alone."

"What'd she say the argument was about?" Beckett asked.

"She said her ex-husband found her and was hounding her. Wanted to see her, try to patch things up, that kinda thing. But from what she told me, Beth – or Karyn, I guess – had long since made up her mind that it was over. She was adamant about it."

"Did she say why?"

"She said he had been stalking her after she left him and before that he'd just gotten really creepy. Staying up all night, talking about death, drinking, carousing, ranting about the foster care system."

"Foster care?" Jane jumped. "Was her ex-husband a foster child?"

"Yeah, that's what she told me. Supposedly he didn't have a good time of it either. Really bore a grudge against his mother for not wanting him. No father in his life either."

Jane and Beckett both tensed up at Pierce's revelations. It was like he was describing 3XK himself. "You wouldn't happen to have seen a picture of her ex-husband would you?" Beckett asked hopefully.

"No. Beth never kept one around. But I do know he lives in your neck of the woods, Detective Beckett. What had Beth really concerned was that the last time he called her, she thought it sounded like he was at the airport. She assumed he was on his way up here to pay her a visit."

* * *

><p>"I think I'll create a character based on you, Korsak," Castle complimented the older cop who had joined him and Frost not long after they began their canvas of Beth Ferguson's apartment building. It was only three stories high, but still with only one of the pair authorized to carry a badge and do the investigating, Frost didn't think he and Castle splitting up was a good idea, so he had called in reinforcements. In between interviewing nosy elderly ladies, recent college graduates, single moms and giddy newlyweds, Castle had taken the opportunity to pick Korsak's brain about his lengthy service on the force. He found his direct and borderline crass sense of humor, old-fashioned dedication to police work, and rough-around-the-edge demeanor fascinating.<p>

"Really?" Korsak asked, as he knocked on the front door of the last apartment on the floor they hadn't hit yet. So far, they hadn't gotten much out of Beth Ferguson's neighbors: she was a nice girl, followed the rules, kept odd hours due to her work schedule, but generally kept to herself and was pleasant. "You don't think Detective Beckett or your other guys in New York will mind? I mean, I don't want to horn in."

"Hey, I'm the writer. And if I think it'll serve the story, it goes in." They heard footsteps approaching the door. "Think of what you want your character's name to be."

The door opened and a small, nervous looking man resembling a young Don Knotts greeted them. After introducing himself and Castle, Korsak got down to business.

"Have you had much interaction with your neighbor in unit 2L? Ms. Ferguson?"

"No," the man curtly replied. "But, I can tell you this much. She keeps some noisy, angry company."

"How do you mean?" Castle inquired.

"Well, I was coming home late from a chess tournament last week and decided to take the stairs to exercise my knees. Well, when I passed the second floor landing, I could hear this man banging on the door to that unit and yelling."

"What was he saying?" Korsak asked.

"Oh, I don't remember much. I don't like to get involved in other people's affairs. But I do remember he was angry. Very angry." His brow furrowed and he clenched his eyes closed as if trying to recall a detail stored deep in the recesses of his brain. "I remember! He said something about how he wanted them to work things out. And if she didn't agree to see him, she'd regret it."

"Did you get a good look at the man?" Castle asked.

"Not really. I walked by quickly, not wanting him to know I was there and heard. I just saw his profile, really."

Both cop and writer sighed in frustration. Korsak handed the man his card and asked him to call if he thought of anything else. They began to step away from the door.

"Wait a minute! He did turn to look at me, just as I passed the landing. He must have heard me coming even though I tried to be quiet. I didn't want to attract attention, you know. But he was so loud I couldn't help but look as I passed. I saw him staring in my direction. It was eerie. But I kept moving upstairs and once I got inside, I locked the doors and called our security service."

"Would you be able to describe him to a sketch artist?" Korsak queried.

* * *

><p>That evening everyone regrouped back at the station. Ms. Ferguson's upstairs neighbor had come and gone, having left the Boston PD sketch artist with a pretty good rendering of the man who had been banging on Beth Ferguson's door. Beckett had forwarded the sketch to Ryan and Esposito and asked them to put out an APB on anyone matching the drawing. She also instructed them to find out about Beth's marriage by talking to her lawyer. If the lawyer could positively ID the sketch as Beth's ex-husband that would be progress as well as give them motive and reason to pull the guy's financial records to see if he hopped a flight to Boston recently. Frost had also corroborated the neighbor's story with building security at Beth's apartment that had sent over video surveillance footage of the front door of the building for the night of the almost-altercation. They were now poring over it as a group in the station's video room over pizza and soda, paid for by Castle.<p>

"We've been over this, like, five times and there's no sign of him leaving," Jane said impatiently in between mouthfuls of her slice of pepperoni and cheese.

"At least we know why Beth Ferguson was killed in an alley instead of her apartment. There was no way ex-hubbie would be able to get into the building since Nervous Norman reported him to security," Castle pointed out.

"But once he got in, how did he get out? He must have left the building another way," Beckett predicted. "Did building security send over a map of each floor of the building? Maybe there's an uncovered exit he used."

"Yeah, they did." Frost answered and fumbled through some papers before pulling out an architectural schematic of the building. "There's one exit on the first floor on the northeast corner leading to the resident's parking lot, but it's locked 24-7 and to open the door from either side, you need to plug in the four digit code number assigned to your unit. Guess it's the best way to control access to that door without having it watched all the time or posting a camera. Ah!"

"What?" The four of them said in unison and all exchanged quizzical looks.

Frost plopped the schematic he had been studying in front of all them on a table and pointed to the left side of the page.

"The fire escape," he announced. "Building security also said they had to repair an old access door to the fire escape on the west side of the building after some drunken twenty-somethings pried it open to get frisky in the night air."

"Kinky," Castle muttered under his breath, this time eliciting a death glare not only from Beckett but from Rizzoli as well. Since they flanked him, he quickly straightened up and nervously cleared his throat.

"Who says men don't think about it all the time?" Jane mused aloud.

"When it comes to him, you have no idea," Beckett said back and the two women exchanged smirks.

"So then," Frost continued. "It looks like our guy used the fire escape to leave the building and get to the alley so he could get away without anyone else making him."

"Which means he could be anywhere," Korsak observed disappointed. "You know it's been a long day, especially for you guys, so why don't we knock off for the night. It doesn't look like our killer on this one is 3XK, just a copycat."

The group agreed and began gathering their things and donning coats. Castle, ever the gentleman and since he had been sitting closest to where the ladies had piled their coats, helped Beckett on with hers then did so for Maura, while Jane and Lanie looked on having already slipped into theirs. It was a gesture Jane saw so infrequently, and experienced herself even less so, that it surprised her, especially coming from the egotistical wealthy writer. Maura merely smiled appreciatively.

Beckett had also been slightly taken aback by Castle's help. She had made it clear since the beginning of their partnership that she didn't want him doting on her in any way and he had respected her wishes. She guessed he was trying to impress Jane or Maura or both as he typically tried to impress women whom he hadn't known very long. Initially she wanted to elbow him in the ribs, but she was tired enough that she didn't have the energy to resist and acquiesced to his chivalrous offer. And oddly enough, being that close to him with the prospect of his arms even loosely around her and catching a faint whiff of what was left of the cologne he had put on that morning, she felt something stir inside her momentarily, almost making her shiver. But the feeling disappeared as fast as it had come.

"I don't mean to be rude, but we never did figure out where we're staying," Beckett reminded.

"Oh, that'd be with me at my house," Maura replied and smiled brightly. Didn't the woman ever get tired, Beckett wondered?

"Are you sure? We don't want to impose…" Beckett began.

"Yeah," Castle agreed. "I'm sure there's a hotel where we could find rooms." Leave it to Castle to suggest they all get hotel rooms, Beckett thought sarcastically. Then her thoughts turned…Castle…and me…in a hotel suite…together…Stop it! Must be the fatigue talking.

"It's no trouble, really," Maura assured them. "I have two guest rooms on the second floor so you and Lanie will have to double up and the three of you will have to share the guest bathroom, but honestly, it's not a problem. It's my pleasure, in fact." Maura finished and smiled at Castle again. Oh my God, Jane thought: she's really star struck.

"Sorry, but we could only get brass to spring for the airfare, not hotel rooms," Jane apologized. "And her house really is comfortable," Jane said.

"Sounds good to me," Lanie said yawning deeply. And after the three New Yorkers conveyed their appreciation to Maura, everyone headed their separate ways for the night.

A little while later, after Maura gave Beckett, Castle, and Lanie a brief tour of her house, introduced them to Bass, her pet tortoise, and showed them their rooms, Beckett changed into her pajamas while waiting for Lanie to return from the bathroom.

"It's all yours, babe," she said as she set aside her toothbrush, toothpaste, and nightly facial cleanser in a small pack which she dropped into her suitcase that sat on the floor against a wall of the spacious bedroom. "I'm obviously working in the wrong city if she can afford a place like this," Lanie thought as she plopped onto the bed.

"First of all, Maura is Chief M.E. where you aren't, and second of all, Jane told me she was adopted into a wealthy family," Beckett corrected her friend politely.

"Can't argue with that."

Beckett gathered her things and headed for the guest bathroom, finding the light still on and the door open a crack. Lanie must have left the light on and the door closed so as not to disturb Castle, she thought. She pushed the door open with her free hand and, to her great surprise, found a shirtless Castle bent over the sink washing his face. With the water running and him humming a little tune to himself, also with the large vanity situated such that his back was to the bathroom door, he didn't know she had even stepped in on him. Initially, she stepped back into the hallway in surprise, but once she figured out he was unaware of her presence, she took a moment to watch him. Her eyes wandered over his toned rear end, which was impossible to miss given his posture, worked their way up his muscular back to his neck, shoulders, and the back of his head with its thick well-coifed brown hair. While he had once glimpsed her naked body when he saved her just after her apartment had been blown up by a crazed Nikki Heat fan, she had never really seen him in any state of undress, not that she hadn't fantasized about it. It thrilled her that her fantasy just about jived with reality.

Castle straightened up and jumped slightly in surprise when he saw Beckett in the mirror. "Oooh, Beckett! I'm…sorry…I didn't realize you were there."

"I'm sorry too, Castle," Beckett reddened. "I thought the bathroom was empty and I just needed to brush my teeth, but I'll…"

"No, no, no. I'm done here. No worries." He said and threw hand towel over his shoulder. He gathered his own toothbrush, toothpaste and hairbrush up in one hand and walked over to the doorway, which Beckett was blocking. He stopped a few paces from her, but just close enough that he expected her to move such that he could get past her. Only she seemed rooted to the spot.

"Good night, Detective," he said in a hushed voice, so as not to disturb Maura or Lanie in both were already asleep. There was a tinge of husk in his voice too.

"Good night, chest…" Dang it! Control yourself, Kate. "Err, Castle." Beckett shifted sideways, but remained in the doorway, giving Castle just enough room to pass her.

Castle raised a single eyebrow and one corner of his mouth ticked upwards before he slid slowly through the doorway. Their chests were only inches apart and as he passed he couldn't help but notice how her V-neck pajama top revealed a hint of her cleavage and that she was very obviously not wearing a bra. As he walked down the hall to his room, he balled his free hand into a fist and bit down on it with his mouth in an effort to control himself. How on earth does she manage to look so beautiful so effortlessly, he marveled? He'd only seen Beckett in her pajamas twice, the last time being when they had traveled to Los Angeles to investigate the murder of Beckett's former training officer. They had shared a tender and long "moment" that night and it had taken all the effort Castle could muster to keep himself from kissing her – _really_ kissing her. He was almost positive she felt the same way, but instead she had broken off the moment and gone to bed.

He stored away his things and sat on the end of the bed, conflicted about the sudden upsurge in feelings he was having for this woman who had become more than just his inspiration for a book character. L.A., now Boston? What is it about going out of town that does this to me, he wondered? And she's not even single. He hated himself for having such thoughts about a woman who was involved with someone else. Yes, he had a reputation for being a playboy, but ever since his first wife and his daughter's mother, had cheated on him, he never made any advances on a woman, no matter how beautiful and desirable, unless he was positive she was single. He flopped backwards on the bed and pulled the covers around him. The bed was smaller than he was used to, but still very comfortable. He sighed heavily, closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but couldn't fight off the visions of Kate that invaded his thoughts.

For her part, Beckett was left slightly breathless by her little interlude with Castle, but shoved thoughts of his defined physique to the back corner of her mind as she brushed her teeth. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw the doorway in the reflection. Suddenly, the image of Castle returning to the bathroom, coming up behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, and pulling her close to him ran through her mind and a delicious thrill shot through her. What would it be like to feel his hands on her bare skin? His lips on her neck? What would he be like as a lover? Whoa! How did that happen? This morning he was just your work partner, now you take one little trip to Boston to help their PD with a case and all of a sudden you want to jump his bones? Why the heck not, another voice replied? Why not indeed, Beckett argued with herself as she rinsed her mouth out. For good measure, she ran some cold water over her face, dried off and headed to bed. Lanie was already dozing in her own twin-sized bed. She had left the light on and when Beckett extinguished it, mumbled a good night. Sleep didn't come easily for Beckett with the idea that the handsome, good-hearted Castle was sleeping a short walk away from her. It reminded her too much of her last trip to L.A. where she had come dangerously close to doing much more than building theory with him. You're in a relationship, for goodness sake, she thought as she lay there. After about a half an hour, the effort of wrestling with her thoughts became too much and sleep enveloped her.


	5. Chapter 5

_Here's a chapter for you Rizzoli-Dean shippers. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>The next morning Castle made everyone in Maura's house an early breakfast before they headed to the station. Tips on the nervous neighbor's sketch had begun coming in and Beckett and Castle spent most of the morning helping Jane and Frost sort through them. Around 10:30, just as they began to think they were getting nowhere, Beckett's cell phone rang. It was Ryan calling to let her know that Beth Ferguson's ex-husband had a name: Jerome Fields, a 30 year old stock broker who lived in Midtown and who hadn't shown up for work recently. His financial records showed no indication of having bought an airline ticket, but airline records showed someone going by the name Tom Brady buying a ticket on an indirect flight to Boston earlier in the afternoon on the same day as Beth recounted to Dr. Pierce that she'd gotten his phone call and the same day that her neighbor reported someone yelling at her apartment door. They caught him on surveillance cameras entering the airport, but found no records that he had returned to New York, indicating that he was still in Boston.<p>

"Tom Brady? Really?" Beckett said in disbelief. "You'd think they'd learn to be a little more original."

"I'll put out an APB on him and we'll bring him in for questioning," Jane said. "Looks like Korsak was right. We've got a copycat on our hands."

Something had been niggling at Castle ever since the night before and as he perused Beth Ferguson's case file, it finally hit him. "I know the details about the green and white nylon cord were never made public in New York, but were you guys aware of them?"

"Yeah," Korsak said. "That's how Jane and Frost suspected this was 3XK's work. But we followed your lead and never released…"

"Oh my God," Jane exclaimed. "It can't be a copycat. Nobody else knows that was the murder weapon except us and 3XK."

"He could have recruited an accomplice," Beckett suggested. "Found someone in Boston to copy his MO so he can re-enter his life in New York unnoticed and throw us off his trail. He's done it before. There's no reason he wouldn't do it again. He's totally playing us."

To make things worse, Frost joined them, his face dark. "Bad news, guys. We got another one."

* * *

><p>"Josie Galloway, age 25, billing specialist at New England Baptist Hospital, no family," Frost ticked off to everyone as they stood over her body in Josie's modest Mission Hill apartment. "A co-worker came by since they typically walked to work together and when she didn't answer her door, she got the super to let her in. They found her here." Josie was positioned as if ready for her own funeral on the floor of her living room nestled between the coffee table and couch. No furniture had been disturbed and her wallet and purse were unmolested, ruling out a robbery gone bad. She also had the tell-tale marks of having been strangled with cord on her neck.<p>

"Was it unlike her to be late for work?" Jane asked Frost.

"Yeah. According to her friend who found the body, Pam Hannegan, Josie was a dedicated employee who everyone liked. She even dreamt of going to medical school someday." Frost answered.

"Maura, Lanie, you guys got a time of death?" Beckett asked both MEs.

"All indicators point to between 7p.m. and 9p.m. last night." Maura answered while Lanie nodded.

"That's odd it took so long for someone to miss her. Attractive woman that she is," Castle observed.

"I talked to a couple neighbors who corroborated Ms. Hannegan's story that Josie had no plans for last night. She'd said she felt a cold coming on and planned on taking it easy at home to ward it off." Frost said.

"That's not true actually," said a male voice from behind all of them who had just entered the scene. Oh crap, Jane thought. I know that voice. She slowly turned around to face the voice's owner.

"Good morning, Jane," said FBI Special Agent Gabriel Dean.

* * *

><p>Jane met handsome FBI Agent Gabriel Dean a year and a half ago when she was working a series of home invasions and murders that closely mirrored the crimes of Charles Hoyt, a military veteran and former medical student who liked to torture wealthy couples by tying up the husband and making him watch while he dissected the female reproductive organs of their wives, had sex with them while they bled to death, then slit the throats of both. Jane had tracked Hoyt down and saved one of his victims, but not before he left her permanently scarred by driving scalpels through her hands to pin her down. While the case had defined Jane's career, it also haunted her. Jane had been relatively new to the Homicide Division at the time and had suffered from a dual curse of being ridiculed by her male-chauvinist colleagues, like a fellow detective name Crowe, who didn't think she was up to the task and the resultant obsessive need to prove herself. Further, Hoyt developed an obsessive attachment to Jane. Feeding off her fear, he twice recruited accomplices to try to lure her into the open so he could kill her. Dean got involved when the FBI discovered that Hoyt had served with his first accomplice in an elite military unit which was sometimes called upon to assassinate national threats for the CIA. The second time Hoyt came after Jane, Dean got the entire Boston FBI office working the case. They even managed to get in a date after closing the case.<p>

Initially, Jane considered Dean cold and robotic, but once he revealed how appalled he was at Hoyt's deeds and Jane came to truly respect him, he became much more human: patient, understanding, humorous and truly concerned for her welfare. At the same time, he unnerved her by making her feel like he was cold reading her and she hated the feeling of not being able to hide.

She knew he was interested in pursuing something with her beyond just being law enforcement colleagues, a blind man could have seen that, and he hinted so during that first date. But her fear that he already knew her better than she knew herself would not be repressed, so she told him she wasn't ready for a relationship where he would be constantly worried about her.

Jane introduced him to Beckett, Castle, and Lanie none of whom missed the faint spark that ignited in Jane's eyes the moment Dean had spoken. "What are you doing here?" Jane asked carefully.

"Actually, I'd rather discuss it back at the station, if you all are finished up here."

Frost and the New York contingent exchanged suspicious looks, but Jane took it as a matter of course. "Uh, yeah. That's fine. Let's…umm…are you two ok to…"

"I think we've got things under control here," Maura saved Jane from tripping over more words. Lanie looked on with obvious interest.

Beckett and Castle filed out of the apartment, followed by Dean who gave Jane a warm smile then turned on his heel. Jane cast Maura a "This is the last thing I want to deal with now" look, but she simply winked and whispered for her to relax.

"What that…?" Lanie asked once Jane had left.

"Yep. I'll fill you in on our way back to the morgue. Let's finish up here first." Maura answered.

Back at the station, everyone filed into the Homicide Division conference room and milled about while waiting for Korsak to arrive from a court appearance and their Lieutenant, Sean Cavanaugh, to join them, which everyone regarded as being a bad sign that the case would not remain solely in Jane's hands. Jane stepped out to get a quick cup of coffee when Dean approached her.

"So, interesting company you're keeping here, Jane. World famous murder mystery writer Rick Castle and his muse Detective Kate Beckett, the inspiration behind Nikki Heat," Dean said as if he were announcing the pair at a public appearance.

"It's not that big a deal. They've been helping me with a case," Jane said casually.

"The Beth Ferguson murder," Dean said.

"Yeah. How did you…" Jane began, but saw Dean's knowing look. "Oh yeah. Right." And they both chuckled. Then Dean got serious and Jane felt the familiar flutter in her chest that she always felt when he seemed to look into her very soul.

"It's good to see you, Jane," he said sincerely. "You look great."

What she had intended to be a glance at his face, ended up being a solid look into his eyes. Boy, was Maura right when, on Jane's and Dean's first case together, she'd said someone should date Gabriel Dean. And while she was ever so tempted, she knew she still wasn't ready.

"It's good to see you too."

"I heard about the hostage standoff last year and…your shooting." Gabriel was talking about a hostage standoff at the station where Jane's younger brother Frankie had been shot and Jane was held hostage, but bravely shot herself and the perpetrator to end the threat. It took her three months to recover.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I would have come by to see you, but I was in Afghanistan again."

"It's ok. Maura wouldn't so much as let me lift a finger anyway," Jane chuckled.

"I just didn't want you to think I didn't come by because I didn't want to or…" Voices in Dean's head momentarily warred with each other, one side telling him to stop where he was since going further could hurt Jane, the other saying he should unburden himself and give her a clue that he's still interested in her. Before he could make up his mind, Jane spoke.

"Well, to be honest, I was…kinda worried that you…" Jane's insides fluttered and she felt herself flush. Fortunately, she caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Cavanaugh entering the conference room, followed by Korsak and Jane's Neanderthal of a colleague, Detective Crowe, signaling their meeting was about to start. "I guess we should, uh…" Jane pointed to the conference room.

"Yeah," Dean agreed and followed Jane inside.

* * *

><p>"Before I begin, Agent Dean would you like to fill everyone in on why you're here?" Lieutenant Cavanaugh invited.<p>

"Thank you Lieutenant. Josie Galloway was an informant of ours who we placed at the hospital."

"Why?" Crowe broke in obnoxiously. "Why would the feebs put someone up in the billing department of a hospital?"

"It should be obvious, genius," Korsak spat back. "They must have a corruption investigation going on, insurance fraud, something like that."

"No, not actually. We thought Josie Galloway could lead us to 3XK." Dean replied evenly.

"She was a plant?" Jane asked incredulously.

"Not a bad looking one either," Crowe whispered to Castle, who had the unlucky honor of sitting next to him. Everyone in the room except Dean, who maintained his usual calm demeanor, glared at Crowe, who quickly clammed up.

"How did you expect that Josie Galloway could catch 3XK by working at a hospital?" Beckett asked.

"Plastic surgery," Castle blurted out. "Jerry Tyson told me he had done it before to change his appearance and would do it again. Where's the best place to keep track of procedures that are performed every day at a hospital by whom and on whom without the informant needing any medical training?"

"Hospital billing department," Jane said.

"Six months ago, we got some intel that someone matching Jerry Tyson's description had relocated here. So we got permission from the hospital to let Josie fill an empty position since she had experience working in the insurance industry and finance." Gabriel explained.

"Wait a minute. If Jerry Tyson said he was gonna get plastic surgery to change his appearance what was so hard about finding him? Wouldn't you just have to show his mug shot around the hospital?" Korsak asked.

"We did that," Gabriel answered. "Nobody recognized him, so we figured maybe he had initial surgery somewhere else, like in a private practice, then went to the hospital for some follow up procedures, the less heavy duty stuff."

"Why come back at all if he was so worried about getting caught?" Crowe put it.

"To taunt us, torture us," Castle replied and Beckett felt a chill as she remembered her talk with Castle by the pool of the motel where Jerry Tyson, had held Castle and Ryan hostage. The look on Castle's face that night as he told her he knew that 3XK would kill again only because he wasn't smart enough to stop him had tugged at her heart. She'd told him she knew exactly how he felt and they'd sat in the dark holding hands to calm each other. The shiver running through Beckett morphed into a warming sensation when she recalled how his fingers felt entwined with her own. Castle's voice brought her back to reality.

"That's why he didn't kill Ryan and me when he held us hostage. So we could live with the guilt of knowing we came so close to catching him and he got away. It also makes him feel all the more invincible."

"And if he thought Josie Galloway was an informant, that'd be a good reason to kill her. Plus, she fits his preferred type of victim." Jane thought aloud. She turned back to Dean. "You said she didn't spend last night at home recovering from a cold. What was she doing?"

"She met with me to tell me she had narrowed the list of suspects to around 12 men based on their height and other physical characteristics and asked me to run backgrounds on them."

"When did she leave your meet?" Beckett asked.

"Actually, I went to her," Dean said. "We met at her apartment around 6 and I left about an hour later."

"Can anyone corroborate that?" Crowe asked smugly.

Jane shot Crowe a death glare. "Knock it off, Crowe."

"It's ok, Jane," Dean didn't lose his cool, but returned Crowe's look with the focus of a laser beam. "I checked in with the building manager on duty before I left like I had been doing every time Josie and I met since she began working undercover. You can check with him."

"Thank you Agent Dean," Lieutenant Cavanaugh broke his silence. "Detective Rizzoli, you're the investigator of record on this case, but we're gonna give you and Frost more help. In other words, this is becoming a task force, with Rizzoli and Detective Beckett, due to her experience with the case, calling the shots jointly. I'm also pulling Detective Crowe and Sergeant Korsak from your other cases and putting you on this full-time, as well as Agent Dean, so we can access the FBI's resources. As you all know, 3XK got his name because he would kill three women in the course of one week, then disappear, then kill three more in another week, then disappear again. Since he's already killed two, I don't have to tell you all how high the stakes are here. Let's get him before he gets his third victim."


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks for everyone's reviews so far. I know the last few chapters have been case-related, but I promise things are about heat up for Beckett and Castle. So stay tuned. _

_And one additional note in response to the review I got where the reviewer suggests that more people would read this story if Jane and Maura were a couple. I said in the author's note before Chapter 1, which you obviously didn't read, that this is not a slash fic: **Jane and Maura will be straight in this story because they are straight on the show.** That's how I choose to write my stories. Others may choose differently, which is fine and totally their prerogative, but I'm not going to change my own style for one person or simply to get more readers. I write because I like to write and post because I enjoy seeing others' reactions to my writing, not in an effort to just get a gazillion readers. Those who ship Maura and Jane shouldn't bother reading this story at all because I know you won't like it. If that costs me readers, so be it. _

_Here's Chapter 6. Enjoy and leave me a review if you like._

* * *

><p>"Thanks, you two," Jane replaced the receiver of her desk phone on its cradle and rejoined Beckett, who was on her cell phone checking in with Ryan and Esposito back in New York on the status of their search for Jerome Fields, and Castle who was studying the murder boards that had been set up in the conference room, which had become the task force's de facto base of operations. "Maura and Lanie just confirmed what we all suspected. Josie Galloway was strangled to death using a three-strand twisted quarter-inch rope of green and white nylon cord."<p>

Castle nodded grimly as Beckett ended her call.

"Jerome Fields is in the wind. Esposito said they've gotten no hit whatsoever on their APB. His apartment shows evidence that he took off and he hasn't been at work for weeks. They've got a tag on his credit cards though so hopefully something will pop soon." Beckett reported.

"Hey Frost, how's it going with our Twelve Ugly Men?" Jane asked as her partner joined them and rubbed his tired eyes. For the last couple hours he had been tearing through the lives of the dozen possible 3XKs Josie Galloway had identified and they had only cleared four.

"Slowly but surely," he admitted. "It'd go a lot faster if Crowe and Korsak didn't seem ready to toss each other through a window."

"If you want to take a break, I'll be glad to jump in and help over there," Castle offered.

"Yeah, not much is going on over here. We both might as well dive in," Beckett said.

Jane told Frost to take a coffee break and the three of them sat down at the conference room table with Crowe and Korsak. Each picked up a file and began reading.

Hours later as night fell outside and the crowd in the homicide division office began to thin out, the group waited as Frost did a search to see if their last possible suspect had any priors. Maura and Lanie had also joined them to help out where they could, and their medical knowledge came in handy when going through the details of the surgeries their possible suspects were looking to have done. Of the eleven men they looked at who had visited the hospital in the last six months leading up to Beth Ferguson's death and who fit Jerry Tyson's height and complexion one had died of a heart attack, three were out of the country and five were out of the state at the time of the murders, one had been in foster care, but had been adopted into a comfortable happy family and one had a record of violent behavior, but had since reformed himself, started his own business, and hadn't incurred so much as a traffic ticket since.

Their last target was Burt Nesbit, a travel agent looking to have his eyes and nose done.

"We might have something here, guys," Frost said hopefully. "Says here Mr. Nesbit spent some time in the Bergen Street Boys Town juvenile home."

"Just like Jerry Tyson," Beckett said.

"Yeah. Their stays even overlapped by about three weeks," Frost added. "He showed up at the hospital for the first time about three months ago and had the work done on his face a month and a half ago."

"That time fits with the Beth Ferguson murder," Jane said.

"That's not all," Frost put in. "The reason he was in juvie? He not only had a history of fencing stolen car parts, but enjoyed torturing stray dogs and cats and tried to rape a blonde high school classmate."

"That's classic mythology for a young adult who's grown up neglected and unloved," Maura observed.

"And angry about it," Lanie put in.

"We got an address for Mr. Nesbit?" Korsak asked.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Beckett, Jane, Castle, Korsak, and Crowe stood ready to bust into Burt Nesbit's Upper Westside brownstone. Dean had agreed to be their outside cover in case something went awry or Nesbit tried to make an escape.<p>

"Wait a minute," Jane hesitated as Castle began donning his custom-made bulletproof vest. "You're not going in there. You're not a cop."

"Aw c'mon," Castle whined. "I've followed her into so many dark and dingy buildings back home that I've lost track. And besides, nothing's happened."

"How quickly you forget the time we were closing in on a suspect and your cell phone ring tone went off and gave us away?" Beckett corrected him.

"Ok, fine. One time," Castle persisted. "The guy came out of the building next door anyway so in the end, no harm done."

Well, there's a first for everything," Jane said then caught sight of the word "WRITER" emblazoned across the front of Castle's bulletproof vest.

"Pretty cool, huh?" He responded.

Jane gave Beckett a look that was a combination of "It's your call" and "I cannot believe this guy is real."

"Castle, I know you have issues following directions, but this time I really need you to be careful and hang back with Korsak. And don't forget that the waivers you signed when you began shadowing me only cover injuries sustained in New York City. Are we clear?" Beckett said pointedly, pressing an index finger into his chest.

He nodded hastily. "Let's do this!" He exclaimed and stretched out his arm, expecting everyone else to lay their hands on top of his before breaking like football players often do on the sidelines before a big game. However, everyone hurriedly took up their positions in typical police-about-to-break-down-the-door-to-a-suspect's-home formation.

Jane did the honors of pounding on the residence's front door and announcing their presence. When nobody answered, Crowe kicked in the door and plunged into the house. Jane and Frost followed with Beckett covering them and Korsak and Castle bringing up the rear.

The word "clear" rang out all over the spacious townhome. Fifteen minutes later they regrouped in the foyer empty-handed. Nesbit was gone.

* * *

><p>By eight o'clock that night, they had another APB out, this time on Burt Nesbit, had frozen his credit cards, and Castle and Beckett had informed Ryan and Esposito of this new development as well as Capt. Van Buren on their general progress. There was nothing else that could be done until either of their suspects resurfaced or, God forbid, struck again, so the group, minus the antisocial Crowe, agreed to adjourn to Maura's and Jane's favorite happy hour spot, The Dirty Robber, for beers and a late dinner. Maura and Jane arrived first.<p>

"Nice people, aren't they?" Maura said as she and Jane waited for a waiter to move several small tables together to accommodate all eight of them.

"Yeah. Pretty sharp too."

"Even Mr. Castle?"

"Alright, yes, even Castle," Jane responded, exasperated. "I think I'm actually beginning to see why Kate keeps him around."

"From my perspective, there's more than one reason she keeps him around," Maura said coyly.

It wasn't in Jane's nature to gossip, especially about her comrades, but Beckett's and Castle's efforts at keeping their attraction to each other on the down-low had been too painfully obvious to miss. "You noticed that too?"

"I think you'd have to be blind not to. Or at least have a bad case of cataracts, glaucoma, diabetic retinopathy…"

"I get it, Maura," Jane sternly broke in.

"You're not jealous are you?" Maura asked.

"Why would I be?"

"Well, from what Lanie told me the other night and based on what I've read about Beckett, you two have some things in common, except she's more comfortable working with the object of her affection."

"For the last time, I am not…"

"Oh, Jane, c'mon! Stop denying it to yourself. You're interested in Agent Dean, but are afraid to make a move because you feel like it could really lead to something serious, right?"

Maura's outburst took Jane by surprise, since similar occurrences happened so infrequently, so she took a minute to process what her friend had said. She had stated the obvious and Jane knew she couldn't hide from her any longer. "Yeah, I am. I just don't want to screw it up."

"You won't. As long as you're honest with him." Maura paused to let her words sink in. It wasn't that she thought Jane was being dishonest, but rather she hoped she would take it as advice. "He's here now, at least until this case is solved. And if there's one thing we've both learned from working with the dead, it's that you've got to make the most of the opportunities you're given to be happy."

Jane nodded in agreement and exhaled heavily. "I wish it was easier."

"Tell me about it," Maura laughed.

"Not to change the subject, but when you said Kate and I have things in common, what did you mean?"

"You know about her Mom's case don't you?"

"Yeah. So?"

"According to Lanie, it left her pretty scarred emotionally. So much so, that she's reluctant to put herself out there romantically."

"Touche," Jane said, as a hostess lead them to their table.

Another hour later, as they had gotten the check, Maura also got a call about a fatal fire and had taken Lanie with her to assist however she could, so Jane gave Castle and Beckett her key to Maura's and Frost gave them a lift. Once at her house, they changed into pajamas and, while both were drained from the long day, neither could quiet their mind because of the case, so they reviewed the details and spun theories while relaxing in Maura's spacious living room.

"So now we've got two suspects," Beckett lamented, as she pulled her legs underneath her in Indian-style fashion and dropped her head backwards against the back of the couch.

"Or they're just the Triple Killer's accomplices," Castle guessed. "He could be training them to take his place or using them as decoys as you said before."

"Who knows?" Beckett sighed. "This case really bugs me. They're so many loose ends to consider, so many players. What if we've focused in the wrong direction and missed something?"

"Hey," Castle said and looked at Beckett more directly. "You're doing everything you can. We all are. I'm sure if we'd have left a single pebble unturned, between Jane, Frost, Korsak, or even Lanie and Maura, someone would have caught it."

Beckett shrugged in agreement. "Probably. Not to change the subject, but what do you make of Jane and Dean?"

"You mean that eye sex they were trading all day?" Castle answered with a playful glint in his eyes.

Beckett grinned. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Totally into each other."

"Definitely. Makes you wonder why they're both still single," Beckett mused, and suddenly felt like she was sitting center stage in a crowded theater with a spotlight shining down on her and couldn't run away.

"Simple: Jane's afraid. She's been hurt before and doesn't want to end up hurt again, so she runs from situations where she's emotionally vulnerable. Plus, Lanie told me about this serial killer who gave Jane the scars on her palms: Charles Hoyt. He became obsessed with her and never misses a chance to rattle her cage. Apparently, in Maura's words, he's the only nut she hasn't been able to crack."

Beckett nodded in agreement as Castle spoke. She had forgotten how adept he was at profiling people. On his first full day of shadowing her, he had profiled her so accurately that it nearly made her heart stop in surprise. The memory still sent shivers up her spine, and not necessarily in a bad way anymore. "I read about that case. I just didn't know she was the cop who was wounded."

"Yeah. And much more than just physically. She's clearly haunted by it."

Castle tried to be coy, but Beckett could tell by the look in his eyes that he was drawing a connection between Jane's being haunted by the Hoyt case and herself being haunted by her mom's unsolved murder. She thought for what seemed like an eternity to try to compose a response, but in the end, just nodded slowly.

"Again, not to change the subject, but before I forget, I wanted to thank you for all your help on this, Castle," she said sincerely. "Shadowing me is one thing, but rearranging your life for a few days to help with a case out of state is beyond the call of duty."

"Anything to help the thin blue line," he answered with a boyish smirk. The look in his eye quickly morphed into the same twinkle she secretly loved seeing. They stared at each other for what seemed like a long time, reminding Beckett of the "moment" they'd shared while in L.A. investigating her training officer's murder. She'd runaway and retreated to her own bedroom in their hotel suite that night, and when she had changed her mind, unbeknownst to him, and sought out more of his comfort, she found he had gone to bed. In retrospect, while she knew it had happened for the best since she was very vulnerable at the time, she also couldn't help but regret the missed opportunity and wonder what might have been.

"Would you like to dance?" Castle invited spontaneously.

"What? Are you serious? No," Beckett answered, shaking her head. "Don't you remember what Van Buren said to us before we left, about no funny business allowed?" Not that Beckett thought such an argument would deter Castle much, given his propensity not to follow authority, but it was the best argument she could muster given that she feared what a dance with Castle could lead to.

"She meant professionally," Castle insisted. "She cannot tell either of us what we should do when we're off duty."

"Who says we're off duty?" Beckett disputed. "Either of those APBs could yield something at anytime or one of their credit cards could pop…"

"Kate, please, we've been at this all day and it's been a tiring last few days. We've done all we can to this point, so I think a little R and R is order."

He has a point, Beckett conceded to herself. And if she tried to cram anymore information into her head about the case or to spin a new theory, she was sure her head would explode. Lastly, she didn't have the energy to argue much less disagree with Castle's pleading eyes.

"Where do you suggest we find some music?" She asked, half curious and half teasing.

"It looks like our Dr. Isles has an iPod dock over there that might work with my phone," Castle hopped up from the couch and made his way, with a perhaps a little too much enthusiasm, over to Maura's kitchen in which an iPod music player sat on the long counter. Castle futzed with it and his phone for a bit then gave a positive exclamation and returned to Beckett.

"May I have this dance?" He bowed formally, extending his hand.

Beckett couldn't help but smile at his traditional, but somewhat sweet gesture and as the eye twinkle intensified.

"OK. But remember, no funny business."

"I'll be a perfect gentleman."


	7. Chapter 7

She stood up, wrapped her left arm around his shoulders and took his left hand in her right, similar to the way they did when they went undercover at a charity gala in the first year of their partnership and Beckett wore that gorgeous red dress Castle had picked out for her.

_I get lost in your eyes,  
>And I feel my spirits rise<br>And soar like the wind.  
>Is it love that I am in?<em>

_I get weak in a glance.  
>Isn't this what's called romance?<br>And now I know  
>'Cause when I'm lost I can't let go…<em>

_I don't mind not knowing what I'm headed for.  
>You can take me to the sky.<br>It's like being lost in heaven  
>When I'm lost in your eyes. <em>

"Debbie Gibson? You really have that on your iPod?" Beckett asked in disbelief as the chorus played.

"What? I know it's a bit cheesy-"

"A lot more than a bit. In fact, if you look, I'm sure your Guy Card just spontaneously combusted."

"But," he restarted, "if you listen to the lyrics, it's got a really beautiful message. Think about it, how many times have you looked, and I mean really looked into someone's eyes?"

"Every day in the interrogation room," Beckett retorted skeptically.

"Try it sometime with someone you're not trying to pin a murder on. It's the only way to see straight into a person's soul if you ask me." Castle explained. "For now, just relax." The hand that rested on the small of Beckett's back shifted and Castle began gently massaging it with his thumb. Beckett leaned in closer, but still kept a respectable distance.

_I just fell. Don't know why.  
>Something's there we can't deny.<br>And when I first knew  
>Was when I first looked at you…<em>

_And if I can't find my way,  
>If salvation seems worlds away<br>Oh, I'll be found  
>When I am lost in your eyes.<em>

Beckett couldn't deny that she was, despite her attempts to fight against it, beginning to relax. She even started to feel swept up in the music. Or was it Castle's cologne? The strong chest against which she leaned? The warm arms that held her to him? The soft breath on her neck? It all brought the memory of him slipping past her in the upstairs bathroom the night before back to her and her heart skipped a beat at the thought. The closeness had felt great then, but this as beginning to feel downright amazing. For Castle's part, his invitation to dance was not at all an attempt to get frisky with her, but a sincere effort at getting Beckett to decompress. However, in such a short period of time, it had become so much more. For both of them, the line about a feeling being present that both were denying hit close to home and scared as well as thrilled them.

Without realizing it, Beckett had rested her chin on Castle's shoulder and pulled him flush with her body. Her breasts now rested against him and he held her right hand to his chest so she could feel his heartbeat. They were barely swaying, eyes closed, totally focused on each other and the moment.

_I don't mind not knowing what I'm headed for.  
>You can take me to the sky.<br>It's like being lost in heaven  
>When I'm lost in your eyes.<em>

Beckett pulled back slightly to rest her forehead against Castle's.

_I get weak in a glance.  
>Isn't this what's called romance?<br>Oh, I'll be found  
>When I am lost… <em>

She pulled back again and took Castle's advice, looking deep into his eyes, deeper than she thought she ever had looked into anyone's eyes.

_In your eyes._

Over the course of her career with the police department, Beckett had searched many pairs of eyes, some crazy and psychopathic, others distraught and scared. This time, she wasn't searching for a confession or a clue, but rather she was searching Castle's very soul. She resisted the urge to run away, but continued gazing into those bright blue eyes. Somehow, the act gave her strength of a nature she never found before. More than physical strength, it was emotional strength: the knowledge that no matter what time, no matter what day, no matter the circumstances, he had her back. In his eyes, she found the true meaning of the word that had become their own little catch phrase: always.

Castle hadn't expected Beckett actually to do what he had suggested. But now that her deep brown eyes were locked with his, now that every fiber of his being had been laid bare, every emotion he felt had become clear and every word that went unsaid had been communicated simply by her eyes meeting his, he reveled in the feeling. Beckett's eyes had been what had attracted him initially that night she had come up behind him at the _Storm__ Fall_ launch party to bring him to the station for questioning. There was a latent sadness there, but also a fierce determination. As they worked that first case together, he also saw glints of playfulness. There was a lot more to her than she had initially let on, and he knew he had to plumb those depths. But she rarely gave him the opportunity to do just that, until tonight.

Stick a fork in me. I'm done, he thought. There is no other woman I want to share my life with than the one standing before me. Katherine Beckett, he concluded, I just fell in love with you.

* * *

><p>Neither moved nor spoke as the next song began playing:<p>

_How can I convince you what you see is real?  
>Who am I to blame you for doubting what you feel?<br>I was always reachin'. You were just a girl I knew.  
>I took for granted the friend I have in you. <em>

_I was living for a dream, loving for a moment.  
>Taking on the world, that was just my style.<br>Now I look into your eyes -  
>I can see forever. The search is over.<br>You were with me all the while._

Castle expected Becket to run away, like she had that night in Los Angeles, but she didn't. His heart skipped a beat when she leaned into him again, only this time her left arm was firmly wrapped around his upper back, her fingers spread wide. She interlaced the fingers of her right hand, which Castle still held to his chest, with his own, and buried her face in the soft spot between his shoulder and neck. Her warm breath on his bare skin was intoxicating, as was her scent of vanilla mixed with a hint of cherry. As they swayed ever slower, she began tracing light patterns at the back of his neck with her long fingers.

_Can we last forever? Will we fall apart?  
>At times it's so confusing, these questions of the heart.<br>You followed me through changes and patiently you'd wait.  
>Till I came to my senses through some miracle of fate. <em>

When the last song had ended, and her mind had recognized the love song now playing, alarm bells had gone off in Beckett's head, but she quickly and vehemently sent them packing. Yes, she was infringing upon dangerous territory with Castle, her work partner and the world famous twice-divorced playboy, but something about the moment was irresistible. It was more than a moment: it was magic. It was as if they had simply been randomly given this scene to act out by a Hollywood writer. Only it was real. And it was hers. He was hers. She wanted nothing else. And she wanted nobody else.

_I was living for a dream, loving for a moment.  
>Taking on the world, that was just my style. <em>

Beckett lifted her head. Her eyes once again locked with Castle's.

_Now I look into your eyes -  
>I can see forever. The search is over.<br>You were with me all the while. _

Exhilarating warmth spread through her. The alarms kept going off, telling her to get out while she could, but she didn't want to. In her heart of hearts, the part deep within her that she kept walled off to so many people in her life, she had imagined this moment with this man so many times and now that she was living it, there was no turning back. She rested her head on his shoulder again, but this time she let her head fall gently against his, reveling in the smell of him and the collective warmth generated by their closeness. In response, Castle tightened his hold on her back slightly.

_Now the miles stretch out behind me:  
>Loves that I have lost,<br>Broken hearts lie victims of the game.  
>Then good luck, it finally struck<br>Like lightning from the blue,  
>Every highway leading me back to you. <em>

Both knew the song was coming to its climax and the anticipation stirred deep and fast within both of them. Their hearts thumped harder and shoulders rose and fell as their breathing quickened. They felt nothing but the heat of the other's body, the rhythm of the other's heartbeat, and the crackle of electricity surrounding them.

_Now at last I hold you. Now all is said and done.  
>The search has come full circle.<br>Our destinies are one.  
>So if you ever loved me,<br>Show me that you give a damn,  
>You'll know for certain<br>The man I really am. _

There was no other way to describe what Castle felt, but that he was in heaven. The tough, tenacious woman he had come to know now swayed gently in his arms and every nerve in his body tingled with exquisite joy and longing. He couldn't remember ever being happier, save when he had held baby Alexis for the first time.

_I was living for a dream, loving for a moment.  
>Taking on the world, that was just my style.<em>

Castle leaned his head down until his face was close to Beckett's. Feeling his breath on her cheek, she turned her head and found her mouth inching closer to his.

_Then I touched your heart…_

As the song's high note echoed through Maura's house, their lips met in a warm, long, luxurious kiss. While blood thrummed through their bodies to various unmentionable locations and nerves were set aflame, somehow there was nothing lustful in the contact. Both had finally surrendered to what they had been fighting for so long.

_I could hear you whisper  
>The search is over, love was right before my eyes.<em>

As the last notes of the Survivor song died out, their arms circled each other, Beckett's around Castle's neck and Castle's around Beckett's waist, and their kissing went on. No tongue. No biting or sucking or licking. Just sweet languorous kisses were all they exchanged in the silence of Maura Isles's kitchen. A wave of energy washed over Beckett as she felt her body flush and taut against his and a slow moan emanated from her throat. All her fears melted away with the rushing tide as it swept her out to sea. It had finally happened: she had fallen in love with Rick Castle.

Finally needing air, they broke off the kiss, but kept their arms around each other, neither wanting to let the other go. They finally fell together in a warm embrace. Beckett closed her eyes tight and ran her fingers through Castle's thick brown hair. She even felt tears of happiness forming in her eyes, but fought them back.

"And love comes in at the eye; that's all we shall know for truth before we grow old and die," Castle whispered in her ear. "William Butler Yeats."

Beckett stayed quiet for a long moment. She knew what she wanted to say, but one lingering fear prevented the words from passing her mouth. Then they broke the embrace, her eyes met Castle's again and the fear evaporated instantaneously.

"I didn't think…you were interested anymore," she said with a worried look on her face and searched his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"You backed off when I came back to the precinct after being shot. No devilish grins or naughty jokes, even the way you'd bring me coffee was different. It was like you did it because it was expected, rather than because you wanted to. You didn't even brag about having sex with the Deep Fried Twinkie." Beckett stammered, referencing Castle's nickname for his first ex-wife and Alexis' mother.

"That's because I haven't had sex with either of my ex-wives in a long time. I haven't wanted to with them, or with any other woman, for that matter," Castle admitted. He didn't know if he should continue, but both of them had already thrown caution to the wind, so he went on. "In fact, you're the one I've wanted for a long time now and not in a purely sexual way, but something much more meaningful and deeper. It's part of why I broke up with Gina. But with you being with Josh and especially after our argument the day before Captain Montgomery was killed, I knew you needed space. Then you got shot and…" Castle's voice faltered briefly as he remembered cradling a pale and bleeding Beckett in his arms. "All I wanted to do was protect you and I knew you wouldn't let me do that and flirt with you at the same time. I wanted you to have time to sort things out for yourself, without my interference."

"You were right," Beckett confessed. "I did need time."

"Does that mean you've sorted things out?"

"Yes. And I know what I want." She leaned in closer to him.

"And what is that, Kate?"

She took hold of his face in both her hands and pulled his mouth to hers in a fierce kiss. They broke apart and Beckett moved to whisper in his ear. She took a deep breath in her mind, knowing that once the words were out of her mouth, they could not be retracted. They would change everything between them. But she didn't care.

"To tell you that I just fell in love with you."

"I love you too, Katherine Beckett."

Her face brightened instantaneously then turned slightly mischievous. "I know. You already told me, remember?"

His face lit up with the realization that she had heard him say those three little words just before she went unconscious as he held her after she was shot. He dashed the bright smile from her face with another passionate kiss.

They were floating, with nothing to hold onto but strong arms and warm lips. Her arms were fastened around his neck and his hands clenched tufts of her luxurious hair. Three years' worth of unexpressed emotion passed between them. A full day could have passed and they wouldn't have noticed. There was nothing keeping them apart anymore. Or was there?


	8. Chapter 8

When her feet finally hit the floor of Maura Isles' kitchen, both literally and figuratively, a realization hit both of them like a thunderclap.

"Rick," she gasped, still trying to regain her breath. An unexpected thrill ran through Beckett at using his first name, the only name of his three that he hadn't legally changed at some point in his life. It wasn't part of his self-stylized image as the wealthy, successful, handsome writer. It was simply him. "I know this is really bad timing, but can you give me a minute? I need to make a phone call."

"It can't wait?" Castle was incredulous.

"Not anymore," she responded and he saw her pull her cell phone from her purse and scroll through the names in her saved numbers directory. When she reached the number she wanted, she flashed the screen at him so he knew who she was calling and why at that particular moment:

_Josh Cell._

Castle nodded in understanding and headed upstairs to his bedroom so Beckett had as much privacy as possible. He entered the room and slumped down on the bed, dropping his head in his hands. Kate was his. Finally, she was his. So why did he have a gnawing feeling in his stomach? Why didn't he want to go shout it from the rooftops or do a cartwheel right then? It didn't take him long to find the answer. The reason was a thick, letter-sized manila envelope sitting locked in the desk in his office back at his loft. He had to tell her. They loved each other and that meant no more secrets, even if this one could destroy what they had achieved not half an hour ago. It was a risk he knew had to be taken.

Beckett leaned back against the large island in the middle of Maura's kitchen listening to the pounding of her heart matching the rings sounding through her phone. She knew what she was about to do had to be done, was long overdue, in fact, but she still didn't look forward to hurting Josh. They'd been together for over a year and he'd made her happy, but not on the same level as Castle did. It's hard to make one that kind of happy when you're busy jetting around the world even if it is for a noble cause. She respected him tremendously for what he did for a living and for volunteering his talents, but conversely she didn't feel like they really knew each other. Granted she had held back on just how far down the proverbial rabbit hole she had fallen more than once, but she never felt entirely comfortable taking down that piece of the wall she had erected around her innermost self. Not for him. It was the fear. Fear that he'd reject her as some kind of drama queen or refuse to accept that her mother's unsolved murder was what drove her to become a cop or that he'd meet someone else on his world trips and leave her with a broken heart. She no longer had any fear about being with Castle. And so she had to end things. She took in a breath and pressed SEND.

* * *

><p>Castle was surprised when merely 20 minutes later, Beckett joined him upstairs. While he had always considered her to be a stunning beauty, her face shone a little brighter tonight. Whether it was the new development in their relationship or the fact that she had just ended her relationship with Josh, he didn't know and didn't care. It just made what he had to say all the more difficult.<p>

"You talked to him?" Castle asked carefully.

"Yeah. It's done," Beckett sat down on the end of the bed next to Castle on his right. "He sounded hurt, but I think he'll be ok. I think he actually saw it coming. He made a comment about how I'll never be able to have the relationship I want until I get over some of my fears."

"He's right, you know. I tried to tell you that when we argued the night before Montgomery died."

"I know," Beckett said, somewhat ashamed of herself. "I can't make any promises other than I'm gonna try. This is all so new and exciting and wonderful, but I've a feeling that when we both get back to New York, it'll all come back to me."

"It's ok. We'll work through it." Castle reassured her, grinning widely, and intertwined the fingers of his right hand with those of her left.

Their eyes met and suddenly the thought that they were both alone in a large house and sitting on the end of a queen sized bed struck both of them. Beckett inched closer to Castle's side and reached up with her right hand. She gently stroked his cheek and his chin, feeling the tinge of stubble that had grown since he had shaved that morning. She brought her hand down to the base of his neck and guided his lips to hers. She inhaled deeply, filling her consciousness with his scent. The smell caused the energy building inside her to grow slowly and her lips parted, deepening the kiss. She moaned again, soft and pleasurable.

Castle's head was spinning. His intention had been to tell her before something like this had happened, but when she appeared in the doorway of the bedroom and sat down next to him, all his resolve disappeared. He longed to take her with him backwards on the bed and let fate and desire dictate the rest of the evening's events. But he knew if he told her any time after they made love, she'd hate him even more than she was likely to do if he had only talked to her, nothing more. With what felt like Herculean effort, he pulled back.

"Kate," he panted. "We need to talk about something before going…any further. It's not that I don't want to go any further, far from it in fact. It's just that…there's something you deserve to know before we try to become anything beyond just partners or friends."

Her brow furrowed in confusion and concern. She knew how to read almost everyone of Castle's facial expressions and this one certainly did not bode well. Her stomach twisted in knots then sank and he seemed unable to speak the words he said she needed to hear.

"Last year, after Captain Montgomery's funeral, I received a package in the mail. It contained a note from him and the missing case files from the records room on the murder of Joe Pulgatti, your mom's murder, and a number of other cases that implicate a total of five NYPD brass in the conspiracy."

Beckett was aghast. How could he keep such a thing from me? He knows full well how much I want to take down whoever was behind my mother's murder, she thought. He's trying to protect me, dammit. Well I didn't become a cop because I shrink in the face of a fight.

She didn't know whether or not to punch him in the mouth or burst into tears.

"Castle, how could you?" She finally managed. "You know how much this case means to me and yet you still sat on what you knew for a year? That's withholding evidence, obstruction of justice, failure to cooperate not to mention just plain betrayal and dishonesty. Don't you realize I could have you arrested and thrown in jail for what you've done, not to mention never speak or work with you again?"

"Kate, Montgomery specifically told me in his note not to do anything unless they make a move against any of us. Call it a trump card to be kept in our back pocket. He was also worried about these guys retaliating against his family or mine or your Dad. Now I know you're not worried about your own safety, but I think we owe it to his family to look out for them. And I don't have to tell you what I'd do to protect Alexis and my mother and even your father given what you've all been through!" Castle had raised his voice now.

"Castle," Beckett continued, almost growling. "We've been partners or whatever for four years now. You know how much I want this case solved…"

"I want it solved too!"

"Oh, you do?" She barked back. "You've got one helluva a way of showing it! If you gave a damn about anything that I've been through since the night my mom died you would have told me WHAT YOU KNEW!" Beckett shouted.

"I DO want this case solved, but not at the expense of your life or the life of any more of our friends and family!" Castle bellowed. "Dammit I love you, Kate! I always have. And after Montgomery died and I had to sit through that funeral and watch as his wife was handed that folded American flag, I resolved that I would NOT sit through another funeral, especially yours, if there was anything I could do about it. So hate me if you want. Never talk to me again. Never see me again. But I think eventually you'll see that I did what I did because this thing has become bigger than just you and your mom."

Tears were welling in Beckett's eyes, but she used the angry energy coursing through her veins to staunch their flow. "I'm going to bed now," she said icily. "Sleep tight." She stomped out of the bedroom to the room she and Lanie were sharing and slammed the door.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Maura could tell something was different between Castle and Beckett. The easy camaraderie she'd observed the day before was gone, replaced by a distance and frostiness. Not interested in prying, she minded her own business. After Beckett had taken the coffee Castle had prepared for her just the way he knew she liked it and had thanked him coldly, Lanie finally pulled her aside into the living room where Castle and Maura couldn't hear them.<p>

Beckett refused to talk about it as Lanie thought she would, but her friend definitely saw the pain hiding behind the anger in her friend's eyes. Back in the kitchen, Maura approached Castle as he buttered a bagel and made the same inquiry. Castle stiffly deflected the question. Maura didn't see much anger in his face, but did see plenty of pain, leading her to conclude that Castle partially blamed himself for whatever happened the night before.

The car ride to the station was much less pleasant. While up front Lanie and Maura discussed the call they had been to last night and tried to keep things light, the temperature in the back seat was definitely several degrees cooler. Both Castle and Beckett refused to look at each other, instead staring out the windows of Maura's Lexus. When they arrived at the station, Castle held the door for the ladies and all but Beckett thanked him for his chivalry.

Jane, Frost and Korsak picked up on the change quickly as well when they briefed everyone on the latest developments since last night, which basically equated to no progress. They astutely minded their own business, the guys doing so because they knew it as the best defense against Jane when she was in a similarly foul mood, and kept their heads bent over their desks. Detective Crowe, however, couldn't resist.

"Trouble in paradise?" He teased.

"Shut up Crowe." Jane spat in defense of her colleagues from New York.

Castle was in no mood for any guff and couldn't stop himself from talking back to the arrogant detective. "You know, you've got a lot of nerve…"

"Castle!" Beckett admonished him sharply and he clammed up.

Just then, Dean entered and paused before speaking, sensing the tension.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked cautiously.

"Not really," Jane answered and Beckett and Castle managed weak smiles in agreement. "What's up?"

"Nothing good. Whoever our killer is, he's struck again. We've got out third victim."

* * *

><p>"Christy Sherman, 29 years old, killed sometime between 3 and 5 this morning. According to her business cards, she was a travel agent." Maura listed as everyone had gathered around the murder boards in the conference room after returning from the crime scene.<p>

"The MO is exactly the same," Lanie confirmed. "Strangled to death in her apartment in Brooklyn with a green and white nylon cord and laid out ready for a funeral."

Jane swore to herself and Frost and Korsak rejoined them having returned from canvassing Christy's apartment building. "Please tell me someone saw something," she pleaded.

"A resident on the sixth floor was in the basement laundry room retrieving some towels they'd left there the night before and saw a strange guy leaving through the front door around our time of death." Korsak said.

"Can they describe the guy?" Beckett asked hopefully.

"Unfortunately, no," Frost sighed. "The sun wasn't up yet and the guy wore dark clothes. Plus since the basement is underground they can't be sure of the guy's height because of the angle they were standing at."

"Everybody looks taller than they actually are when looking from a low angle," Castle observed. "That's why Napoleon never had a portrait painted of himself from a high angle or while standing next to someone taller."

"Right. The best the person can do is to say they were male, Caucasian, in shape, with close cropped hair." Frost finished.

"How did the FBI know about this before us?" Jane turned to Dean.

"Sorry, but that's classified."

"Really? You're gonna pull that crap on me again?" Jane said sharply then regretted her outburst when she remembered Dean wasn't a cop, but privy to sensitive investigations and information due to his FBI-mandated security clearance. "Sorry. I know you're just doing your job." She apologized.

"It's ok. I guess this case has us all on edge," he responded and gazed evenly at Beckett and Castle, who were so engrossed in studying the murder board that the remark went over their heads.

"What about video surveillance of the front door?" Jane changed the subject.

"No cameras. All visitors are required to sign a visitor's log while residents can come and go as they please. Guard on duty this morning admits he fell asleep on the job and that someone could have snuck in and out without stopping by the desk." Frost responded.

Jane growled to herself feeling like they were back at square one with nothing to go on. "Alright, let's dig into our three victims and see if there's any common thread running between their lives besides the fact that they're all blonde and in their late-twenties or early thirties. Castle and Beckett, why don't you take Christy Sherman, Frost and I will take Beth Ferguson…"

"And I'll take Josie Galloway with Crowe," Korsak offered.

"We'll go through the autopsy reports again to make sure there isn't some commonality we missed," Maura volunteered.

"Why do I have to work with him? Why can't I partner up with Beckett?" Crowe whined. Castle picked up on the slight lilt he put on the words "partner up" and had to tamp down the angry rush of adrenaline that shot through him.

"Because life ain't fair," Korsak retorted, doing his best imitation of a high school principal disciplining a wayward student. "Now let's go."

* * *

><p>By mid-afternoon they had finished comparing all three women's phone records, financial backgrounds, employment histories, even college transcripts and found little tying them together other than their physical appearance and cause of death. Castle and Beckett had discovered that Christy Sherman was estranged from her older brother with whom she'd had a falling out after their parents had died in a car accident. While she scrimped and wisely invested her inheritance, her brother had squandered his and had been harassing his sister for a loan to pay off his debts. She had refused, leading him to leave some pretty nasty threatening messages on her voice mail. Additionally, he had gone AWOL from his job as a venture capitalist in the last week and had a similar physical build as Jerry Tyson and their other two suspects.<p>

But that's where the similarities with Beth Ferguson and Josie Galloway ended. Beth Ferguson, formerly Karyn Parks, was a ballet lover, duckpin bowler, and had played the violin while working towards her bachelor's and master's degrees in psychology and counseling at Princeton. She had an elderly grandmother in Arizona who she visited monthly and volunteered with the local Boys and Girls Club in what little spare time she had. Josie Galloway was a Mets baseball fan, had been part of the championship track and field team at NYU while studying finance, and never missed a Boston Pops concert when she wasn't out of state on an investigation for the bureau.

After the comparison of the three women's lives had been laid out on the murder board and everyone realized they had another missing suspect for whom another APB had been issued, but were not much closer to making any more headway, Jane suggested they take a break and led Castle and Frost to the station's small cafeteria where her mother worked behind the counter to get sandwiches for everyone. Beckett said she would stay behind and slumped down in a chair, rubbing her eyes to try to clear her mind. It also gave her a few minutes to sort out her argument with Castle without the distraction of having him around.

Just as she began to wonder if she had jumped on him unnecessarily, she felt a presence join her in the conference room. She opened her tired eyes and found Crowe studying the murder boards.

"This is driving me nuts," he said. "This whole case."

"I know what you mean," Beckett said, surprised that Crowe's human side was finally showing. "I hate having unsolved cases."

Crowe sat down in a chair across from her but kept his eyes fixed on the boards. "Maybe we just need a new perspective on everything."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe if we mix things up. You and me work together, Jane and Korsak, Frost and…the writer."

"Castle, you mean." Beckett didn't miss the derisive way he had referred to her partner.

"Yeah, Castle," Crowe said impatiently. "I'm just saying that different minds working together might yield something we've missed up until this point."

Beckett saw right through Crowe's act as nothing more than another smarmy attempt at gaining the chance to work with her. She'd had similar offers, some much more blunt, in her career and therefore could spot them a mile away.

"Thanks for the flattery, Crowe, but I think we should keep things as they are. We've had three murders in three days and have three suspects. It's not like we haven't got any leads at all."

"True. But I'll bet you and I could bring this thing home if you didn't have Mr. Fancy Pants Writer holding you back and I didn't have Principal Korsak hanging over me."

Now Beckett's defenses were up. She was still angry at Castle for not disclosing crucial information about her mom's case, but she wasn't about to let someone who barely knew him and had never worked with him before insult his intelligence and instincts. "You know for as annoying as Castle can be, he can also be a pretty decent partner, if you take the time to get to know him."

"I'd rather get to know you, Kate." Crowe replied and gave her an unmistakable sex-ray. "If you don't wanna work this case with me, then at least let me take you out for dinner before you head back to New York."

"No thank you," Beckett answered with a glare and excused herself. She'd rather be anywhere in the world than in that conference room with Crowe at that moment. She walked around the conference room table toward the doorway that led to the detective's work stations and still felt Crowe's eyes following her. When she heard him humming lasciviously, she froze in the doorway, furious beyond belief and simultaneously feeling the need for a shower.

She turned back to Crowe who didn't bother disguising his leer. With her back to the office area of the homicide division, she couldn't see that Castle had returned carrying a box of soda, followed by Jane with a large brown bag of sandwiches, and Frost a plastic bag of cookies and other baked treats. Castle froze when he saw Crowe undressing Beckett with his eyes. He dropped the box of sodas and without a thought in his head rushed toward the conference room.

"Hey, Mr. Fancy Pants is back," Crowe teased as Castle brushed past Beckett, stopped right in front of Crowe and slugged him in one solid punch.


	9. Chapter 9

"Castle! What the hell?" Beckett yelled and helped Frost and Jane subdue him while Korsak came running, hearing the melee from the office area. Nobody helped Crowe.

"You bastard!" Crowe bellowed and made a move to retaliate, only to be intercepted by Korsak's stocky body.

"You touch him, Crowe, and you'll be suspended for a month! Now stand down!" Crowe backed off and checked his nose with his fingers to see if it was bleeding. It wasn't, but a round bruise was already forming on his left cheek.

"Jane, Frost, take Castle to lock up for a few hours to cool off," Korsak ordered. Castle's first instinct was to protest, but as soon as he'd thrown the punch, he knew it was a mistake and would carry serious consequences, so he complied.

As a uniformed cop gave Crowe a small plastic bag filled with ice for his cheek, Korsak pulled Beckett to his desk in a corner of the office farthest from the conference room to get a statement about what had happened. Beckett explained word-for-word what Crowe had said to her and how she had tried to leave, but Crowe had continued undeterred by her rejection. By the time they finished, Jane and Frost were back with Castle's version which matched Beckett's. Finally, a maintenance worker who had been emptying trash cans near the entrance to the conference room voluntarily corroborated both their stories. He even admitted that if Castle hadn't slugged Crowe, he would have, since he had two daughters roughly the same age as Beckett. He added that he didn't have to worry about the job since he was a retired engineer with a nice pension and was working at the station just to get him out of the house during the day, so he wasn't afraid of losing his job.

Korsak then interviewed Crowe, who played the victim and tried to pass off his words as simple cop humor.

"Do you see me laughing?" Korsak asked severely.

"Oh c'mon, Korsak! What the hell's with you lately anyway? You've been up my skirt ever since this bunch arrived in town!"

"Because I know your history with Rizzoli and I saw how you looked at Beckett the first day she got here: like a wolf who'd just entered the henhouse." Korsak's eyes blazed slowly, sending the message that despite Crowe's best efforts, he would not be intimidated. "Now that kinda stuff may fly at the gym where you spend most of your free time, but here it's called sexual harassment."

"Are you suspending me?" Crowe demanded incredulously.

"Hell, yes! For one week."

"Fine!" Crowe growled back. "I will be contacting my union rep about this."

"You go right ahead," Korsak challenged. "But for now, get out."

Crowe gathered his things, put on his coat and stalked out of the station. Korsak then turned to Beckett.

"I need the number of your CO," he asked, meaning Captain Van Buren.

Beckett shifted her weight on her feet. "Sergeant Korsak-"

"I'm sorry, Detective Beckett. But I think you know this has to be done."

He was right, Beckett conceded to herself. It's exactly what she would do if she were in Korsak's place. She gave him the number and he excused himself to make the phone call Beckett had a bad feeling would result in Castle's being recalled to New York or, even worse, would put an end to their partnership. She grabbed a sandwich and a soda from the boxes that had been haphazardly set up on the conference table and searched for a quiet place to eat. Jane offered her desk and the two women ate in relative silence until Lanie joined them. They gave her the Reader's Digest version of what had happened as she popped the top on her own soda can.

"I know you hate being looked after, Kate, and I know it'll put him in trouble with Van Buren, but you gotta admit what Castle did was the honorable thing." Lanie tried.

"It was the stupid thing," Beckett mumbled. "Just like Castle: act first then think."

Sensing her friend was holding back, Lanie plowed forward. "Alright, spill it. You two have been as friendly today as Republicans and Democrats in Washington have been lately. Did something happen last night?"

Beckett's face pinked slightly, then went stony. "It has to do with my mom's case, Lanie," Beckett said.

"It's ok, I know all about it," Jane said, surprising Beckett. "C'mon, it's not like I don't read the newspaper: the hostage standoff in the precinct, you shooting the hitman who killed your mom, the guy who you arrested for ordering said hit breaking out of prison and killing your Captain, you getting shot at your Captain's funeral?"

Beckett tried to hide her surprise, but failed, so Jane nodded sympathetically in return. Figuring she already knew her most private business, and that there was no harm in bringing her in on more, Beckett relented. "Let's not talk about it here," she suggested and Jane led them to an empty interrogation room where they all could speak in private.

"We were relaxing in Maura's living room when Castle randomly asked if I wanted to dance, insisting that I needed to relax because of the stress of the case. So I agreed and we danced for a little while, and one thing led to another…"

"One thing led to another?" Lanie began, slightly shocked. Then her eyes narrowed. "You kissed him didn't you?" She asked, unable to hold the question in. Jane simply listened, having put away her cop façade for the time being.

Beckett flushed with embarrassment, but knew there was no fooling her friend, who had pushed her to get to together with Castle since he had begun shadowing her. "Yes, Lanie. I did. I kissed him. We kissed each other in fact, and it was…" Beckett's face softened for the first time that day as her mind wandered back to relive the scene in Maura's kitchen the previous night. She remembered the feeling of Castle's arms around her, of his scent surrounding her, and the taste of his lips on hers and a chill shimmied up her spine. "It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced since Mom died. I'm sorry for getting so personal, Jane." Beckett apologized for what she considered her unprofessional conduct in front of someone she'd only known for a few days.

"Hey, we're all women here, Kate," Jane soothed. "He is quite handsome, if not equal parts obnoxious and egotistical."

And it's not like you've never suffered from a bad case of unrequited love, Lanie thought about Jane, but kept the idea quiet.

"Anyway, I told him I love him and he said the same about me. I'd never felt so sure and unafraid of anything in my life. It just felt so good and so…right. I knew it would never be the same with Josh, so I called him right there and ended things."

"Josh is your now ex-boyfriend, I'm guessing?" Jane asked.

Beckett nodded then continued. "After I ended the call, I found Castle his bedroom. We kissed again, but he cut things off. He said he needed to tell me something. Then he said Montgomery had sent him some files related to my Mom's case and that he hadn't said anything to me about them because Montgomery left him a note instructing him to keep them a secret unless he couldn't avoid it and in the interest of his family's safety, my safety and Castle's family's safety." Tears of pain were welling in Beckett's eyes and threatened to spill over and down her cheeks. "I couldn't believe it. I had just experienced one of the most amazing moments of my life only to experience one of the absolute worst. While I was in the hospital recovering, he visited me a number of times and continued helping the guys with cases. He even backed off and gave Josh and I space. Didn't take long before I came to trust him again. Then in one fell swoop he destroyed it all. I don't know how we can continue working together if I can't trust him not to hold back evidence on me."

Even though Jane couldn't admit to knowing Beckett very well, she really felt for her as she talked. She knew what it was like to be unsure if her partner would be there for her. She felt the same way about Korsak after he had saved her, broken and scared, from Charles Hoyt. It was why she requested a new partner and was assigned to work with Frost. She and Korsak eventually made amends and Jane considered him one of her mentors. It was obvious Beckett and Castle worked together as well as she did with both Frost and Korsak. But the Beckett-Castle partnership now ran deeper, meaning it would take more effort on both their parts to re-establish what they'd had prior to falling for each other.

"Kate," Jane started, "I know we just met a few days ago, but if I might offer you some advice, I'd say it sounds like Castle did the right thing. I know it's not what you wanna hear, but he was only respecting your Captain's last wishes, protecting his family and you, his partner. It couldn't have been easy for him either, knowing how much the case means to you. I know if I was in the same position, it'd probably kill me to keep it a secret, but if it keeps more blood from being spilled, I gotta believe it's the right thing to do."

As Beckett mentally processed Jane's words, a thought occurred to her that she hadn't considered: what _would_ she do if she were in Castle's shoes? After a long moment, and as a tear finally traced its way down her cheek, she realized she would do exactly what Castle had done. After sitting through Captain Montgomery's funeral and watching his wife break down as she was handed a folded American flag, she knew she wouldn't be able to bear going to another funeral, especially if she could avoid it.

"You know, Maura had to make a tough decision last year," Jane added. "She was adopted and we found out through the course of an investigation, that her birth father is a mobster and that if Maura didn't tell him the identity of the mobster from a rival family who had murdered her half-brother, the killer was gonna come after her. She had to choose between saving herself and giving her father a reason to kill someone else's loved one. It was probably the hardest decision she ever made, but she chose to save herself. It sounds selfish, but Maura is one of the least selfish people I know. Plus she couldn't handle it if someone innocent was caught in the crossfire when the guy came after her. And, trust me, he was gonna come after her."

Lanie leaned forward now and took one of Beckett's hands. "Katie, my grandmother had a saying that until I grew up I never understood, but now, doing what I do what I do for a living, I see exactly what she meant. She used to say 'Doing the smart thing may not always be right, but doing the right thing is always smart. The problem is, the right thing isn't always the easiest.'"

Beckett wiped the tear off her face and was lost in thought as she considered Lanie's words.

"Look at it this way: you can't love him if you're dead." Lanie said.

That got Beckett's attention. She knew she never wanted to live without him, even it was in whatever world came after death. She exhaled loudly.

"I guess he just did what he felt he had to, given the circumstances," Beckett said.

"Sounds like it," Jane agreed. "God knows the ones we love can drive us crazy, but in the end, they've usually got our best interest at heart."

"I know. Thank you both." Beckett grinned as Jane took the free hand Lanie wasn't holding, sealing the newfound bond between the three women working in male-dominated fields. "So what about the files? Castle said they implicate several NYPD brass." Beckett added, switching gears.

"Katherine Beckett, listen to me," Lanie said and immediately switched from sensitive girlfriend to hard-charging woman. "I know you want to know what's in those files, but so help me if you so much as go within a mile of them, I _will_ come after you and you know I know how to inflict maximum discomfort on a body with minimal damage."

Jane suppressed a chuckle then had a thought. "We'll give them to Gabriel…errr, Dean. He'll look into it and do what has to be done. Plus, he'll be able to leverage FBI resources, if necessary, to break the conspiracy."

"Alright, but he needs to know whoever is behind this has an immense amount of resources at their disposal and has already killed half a dozen people to keep everything buried," Beckett warned.

"He can handle himself. I mean you don't survive multiple trips to Afghanistan as a Marine and as a special agent without learning a few things about survival." Jane almost seemed like she was bragging, which caused Lanie and Beckett's womanly-instincts to perk up.

"Or so I've heard…" she covered as her cheeks pinked up. She eventually gave up and a smile broke out on her face. Soon all three women laughed their way out of the interrogation room.

As they made their way back to the conference room, Korsak stood in the observation room, waiting until the women were out of sight, before emerging lost in thought over what he had just heard.

Meanwhile, in a holding cell, Maura flexed Castle's fingers in various directions testing the extent of possible injury to the hand he had used to hit Detective Crowe. She determined nothing was dislocated or broken, but he would have a severe bruise on his knuckles and his wrist would be sore. She asked a uniformed officer to get an ice pack and he complied.

"You love her don't you?" Maura asked Castle, taking him slightly by surprise. "You don't seem to me to be a violent person who goes off half-cocked a lot, Mr. Castle, but I can tell you're a passionate man, especially when it comes to Detective Beckett."

"I've been married twice, Dr. Isles," Castle said sadly.

"Maura." She corrected, and a small, warm smile formed on her face.

"Sorry…Maura. And you can call me Rick." She nodded in agreement. "I've been married twice and had women all over the world: blonde women, brunette women, smart women, French women-"

"I think I have a grip on this, Rick."

"Sorry…again. My point is, for all my success and all the people I've met and all the women I've…known, nobody fascinates me like Beckett. Nobody has attracted me, challenged me, frustrated me, but at the same time scared me and made me want to protect her like she does. All at the same time. I'd walk through fire for her…come to think of it, I actually did. It's just every time we get so close something happens and it's like we're back where we started. I've done everything I can to help her solve her Mom's case because I know how important it is to her, how everyday that goes by where it's not solved, it haunts her. But every time I think I'm doing the right thing, it turns out I was wrong."

"Are you sure about that?" Maura queried. "Sometimes doing the right thing is the only way to get through to the ones we love…and to find out whether or not they feel the same. Now you said you've been working with Detective Beckett for about three years now?"

Castle nodded.

"And you've known about her mom's case from the beginning?"

"From the beginning."

"And you've tried helping her with it ever since then?"

"Yeah. But she always ends up mad with me for some reason or another."

"Then if what you did was so wrong, why has she kept taking you back after each time she's been mad with you? She may be afraid to admit it, but deep down I think she knows you did the right thing in each instance because you care. Is that what your argument last night was about?"

Castle's surprise at Maura's correctly seeing through his and Beckett's demeanor was quickly dashed by his desire to move forward and get things out in the open. "Yeah. I did what I was asked to do and what I thought was best and when I told her last night she was furious just like I thought she'd be. I can't get into specifics because…well, you'd be better off not knowing, let me just leave it at that."

"Ok," Maura said as she stood, leaving Castle sitting on a low bench that protruded from the holding cell's back wall. "You know, Jane and Beckett are very much alike, besides the fact that they're homicide detectives. Now when someone does something to Jane that crosses her, her first instinct is to fight back as well. It's how she survived growing up in a household where her brothers walked on water and she had to swim behind them. And while some, like Crowe, think that's all there is to her, dealing with victims' families on a regular basis has given her an infinite store of compassion which I can see in Detective Beckett as well. Otherwise, she wouldn't care so much about what she does. Give her some time. I think she'll come around when the stress of this case isn't on her shoulders."

The lost puppy look on Castle's face faded slightly. "Thank you, Maura." She grinned back and turned to leave but saw Korsak approaching.

"Your hand OK?" He asked and gave Castle the ice bag Maura had asked for while the ME gave her diagnosis.

"For what it's worth, Sergeant Korsak, I'm very sorry to have caused such a disruption," Castle apologized.

"I appreciate that, Rick, but don't feel too bad," Korsak said. "I've been dying to clock that guy ever since he got here. Jane has too."

"I guess you spoke to Captain Van Buren?" Castle asked reluctantly.

"Yes, I did," Korsak said with a sigh. "The good news is you're not being sent home and the department has agreed not to press charges against you for assault as long as Detective Beckett doesn't sue for sexual harassment, which she agreed to. We'll suspend Crowe for an appropriate amount of time to send him the message to clean up his act and that'll be that. That Captain of yours is a tough lady, but fair and understanding."

Maura and Castle exchanged looks, which confused Korsak, but he brushed it off. "Maura, would you excuse me and Rick for a little bit?" He asked and she acquiesced.

Korsak motioned for a uniformed officer to unlock the cell, freeing Castle. When both were facing each other outside the cell, Korsak got to the point.

"You and Detective Beckett, huh?" His meaning was unmistakeable.

"You spoke to her?"

"You might say that. Listen, I know what's had you two at each other all day."

"The fight or..?" Castle said, fighting off a growing feeling of embarrassment and worrying about having incurred more of Beckett's wrath since their private moment the night before was obviously no longer private.

"The fight," Korsak said and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'or'? 'Or' what?"

"It doesn't matter," Castle said and quickly changed the subject. "You were saying?"

Korsak maintained his poker face to keep from revealing what he had heard from Beckett. "I know this isn't my place, but you two make a heckuva pair. In many respects. Don't let whatever speed bump you hit ruin it all. I've been there, done that three times. I should have known better with two and should have tried harder with one."

"I've been there twice myself," Castle explained. "It's different with Kate. Extraordinarily different."

"Alright then," Korsak said sincerely. "Oh, one more thing. Agent Dean?" He called out and the Special Agent rounded a corner and joined them. "Whatever files you have that are related to Detective Beckett's mother's murder, I want you to give them to Agent Dean, here, for your own safety and for the safety of Detective Beckett."

"I'll take care of it, Rick. Keeping them to yourself was very risky, but I think it saved Detective Beckett's life and who knows how many others. Let the bureau take it from here." He extended his hand and Castle shook it.

"I'll give them to you on one condition: that Beckett is not to be informed of your progress until you're positive it's safe to do so. It's the only way to keep her safe from whoever is behind this and from herself."

"I understand completely." Dean answered. You have no idea just how completely, he thought.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Beckett said having come around the corner. "I was looking for Agent Dean."

"I'm aware of what you wanted to talk to me about, Detective. And no worries. It's taken care of."

"But-" Beckett stammered. Then she saw the resolve on the three men's faces and knew she need not press the subject. "Ok. Thank you. All of you."

Korsak and Dean nodded and also picked up on the awkwardness passing between Castle and Beckett.

"I guess we should…" Dean began.

"Yeah. I never did get to eat that sandwich," Korsak said and both men left Castle and Beckett alone.

"Kate-"

"Castle, let me go first. I'm still having trouble completely accepting what you did, but I realize that you just did what you thought was right and that it couldn't have been easy on you. Just like it couldn't have been easy on Captain Montgomery keeping his involvement in the conspiracy a secret from me all that time. And I can't fault you for having the best of intentions, so I'm sorry for blowing up on you."

"You're right…as usual." Castle said, and Beckett grinned at his underhanded compliment. "I did what I thought needed to be done because it was what Montgomery wanted and because I didn't want to risk losing you again. It nearly broke my heart that I was too late to keep you from being shot. I can't go through that again. I won't go through that again."

"I don't want you to." She closed the distance between them and they hugged.

"I know you said I didn't need to apologize, but I'm sorry I hurt you. So very sorry." He gave her a little extra squeeze and she responded by pulling his lips down to hers by the lapels of his blazer and kissing him, quickly but firmly.

"You're forgiven," she whispered.

"I wish the Catholic Church doled out _that_ kind of penance. They'd have people beating down the doors of the confessional instead of flying under the radar as Christmas-Easter Catholics." He joked and the brilliant smile returned to Beckett's face for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

Then it hit both of them like a bolt of lightning and they stared each other, breathless and rooted to the ground on which they stood.

"Flying under the radar!" They exclaimed simultaneously and together took off towards the conference room at a run.


	10. Chapter 10

"Whoa! Where's the fire you two?" Korsak observed as Castle and Beckett came rushing into the conference room.

"Where are the financials for our victims?" Castle asked hurriedly and Frost handed over three letter-sized manila file folders.

"Just as I thought!" Castle exclaimed. "Josie Galloway made several charges to her American Express card for flights on Southwest Airlines."

"Yeah. The Bureau has an agreement with Southwest that all agents get the military discount for flying on official business. Josie flew all over the country for us before we put her undercover here." Dean explained."

"Her last flight was from Dulles in DC to here about 5 months ago on Southwest," Beckett said.

"And we know Beth Ferguson flew out west every month to check her on her grandmother and that Christy Sherman was a travel agent who probably flew all the time," Castle listed, his eyes lighting up with excitement as Korsak, Frost, Jane, Dean, and Lanie listened in rapt attention. "So what's the common thread?"

"The fact that they all flew on planes to or out of Boston?" Frost said dubiously. "Lots of people do that."

"Yeah, but on the same carrier and within two weeks of each other?"

All eyes now focused on Beckett.

"You're getting warmer, but that still doesn't narrow down things down much," Jane said.

"Listen, I know it's a long shot, but who would have the opportunity to interact with all three women between whom exists the singular commonality of having flown on the same airline within two weeks of each other?" Castle asked breathlessly.

"Someone with the airline," Jane realized. "Or someone working in the airport that day."

"That still leaves potentially hundreds of people," Korsak said.

"I know, and Castle's right. It is a long shot, but it's all we've got right now. So, Frost, get in touch with Southwest and get a list of flight attendants who worked every flight in those two weeks and we'll match them up with the manifests from the flights our victims were on." Jane asked.

"You got it." Frost headed to his desk.

"I'll update Cavanaugh and Lieutenant Van Buren," Korsak volunteered.

"Wait," Castle called out, noticing a third man's face had been tacked to the murder board, a man who bore a striking resemblance to Christy Sherman.

"Christy Sherman's twin brother, Alex. The two of them never got along terribly well, especially after Christy reported him for sexually molesting her neighbor's teenage daughter."

"So we've got a suspect in her murder, just like we have one in each of the other three murders," Beckett observed.

"Yeah, but also like the other suspects, Alex has gone missing." Frost said, as he waited on hold on his desk phone.

"Talk about an odd sock," Castle said and began thinking, but was interrupted when Jane approached him.

"I gotta say, Castle. I'm impressed," she said as Beckett updated the murder boards with their newly found information.

"Thank you, Detective. But I really can't take all the credit. Just most of it…"

Beckett cleared her throat loudly without turning away from writing. She firmly capped the dry erase marker she had been using and turned on her heel. "Say that again…kitten?"

"Kitten?" Jane said, both her eyebrows shooting upward while Beckett crossed her arms and stared Castle down.

"Oh yeah, that's his nickname around the precinct." Beckett said, barely able to contain her glee over Castle's embarrassment.

"Alright! Alright! My apologies. Beckett deserves half of the credit too." Castle relented and made a quick escape from the conference room.

"Nice one, Detective," Jane congratulated.

"Thank you, Detective." Beckett replied.

"Here we are!" Frost called out as two hours later he clipped a fourth photo to the section of the murder board marked Suspects/Persons of Interest. "Johnathan Thomas, 35, moved to Boston 6 months ago to take a job as a ticket taker with Southwest Airlines at Logan Airport. Not long after the paychecks started, his health insurance shows a claim for a plastic surgery consult at…one guess…"

"New England Baptist Hospital," Seven voices chorused, Maura having joined them all from the morgue.

"Bingo! We have a winner. His height matches that of Jerry Tyson, as does the timing of his appearance here in Boston, and if you'll notice, he even used the same initials." Frost said.

"So we know how Mr. Thomas here discovered his victims and how he killed them, but how did he get into Josie Galloway's and Christy Sherman's apartments?" Lanie asked.

"I got an answer for that one too," Frost replied and pulled a printout of the website of a computer maintenance service.

"He was a one man Geek Squad," Castle said. "So he meets the women on the flights, sizes them up, chats them up enough to figure out that they need help with their laptops or they want a LAN connection installed or something like that…"

"He gets their addresses. They let him in to their apartments thinking he's there to do the work they requested…" Beckett continued.

"Only he kills them," Jane finished. "But why then was Beth Ferguson killed in an alley?"

"Right here," Beckett answered. "Uniforms pulled this out of a file in her desk when they searched her office." She produced a verification of a complaint Beth Ferguson had filed with the local Better Business Bureau about someone failing to show up three times to perform work on her office computer.

"But why would he break pattern and just not show up? Especially since he gets such a charge out of killing these women?" Jane asked.

"Well, Beth Ferguson was a therapist who worked with kids from the foster care system. It's possible she got a weird feeling from her interaction with him and began asking questions that made him think she was onto him. So he figures he'll kill her in an alley where she won't be able to see him coming." Maura theorized.

"I wouldn't let a guy like that anywhere near my apartment," Lanie observed.

"You know what they say about hindsight," Korsak offered.

"Ah, the knew-it-all-along effect, also known as creeping determinism," Maura recited matter-of-factly. "What?" She asked confused, after seeing the others' bewildered expressions.

The whole time everyone had been talking, Castle had been unusually quiet and focused on the faces of the four men staring back at him from the murder board.

"Castle? You OK?" Beckett asked. She became more alarmed when his shoulders slumped.

"It's not him," he said. "It's not any of them."

"What do you mean, Castle?" Beckett asked, her jaw hanging slightly slack. It felt like the air had been let out of the room.

"I looked directly into this guy's eyes that night he had me tied up and I've been doing the same to these four. None of them match the look I saw, the level of evil."

"Well, it was a while ago," Maura said. "Time could be clouding your memory."

"Or creeping determinism," Jane teased.

"Jane, have you forgotten Charles Hoyt's eyes?" Castle asked pointedly, ignoring both Jane's and Maura's last comments. "Beckett, could you forget Hal Lockwood's"

Both women shifted on their feet and uttered quiet No's.

"There is one possibility we haven't considered that would confirm beyond a shadow of a doubt if one of these guys is Jerry Tyson," Dean said.

"Retina scan," Lanie blurted out, realization dawning on her. "It's a biometric technique that uses the unique patterns on a person's retina in their eye to identify them."

"It's like comparing their DNA or fingerprints. No two people's are alike. It's supposed to be the wave of the future in identity verification because it's much less intrusive than the other means." Maura added.

"But wouldn't you need the person's actual retinas to scan?" Jane asked. "Is a photograph on paper gonna be enough to gain a match?"

"It may have to be," Dean said with deadly seriousness. "Grab those photos and let's head over the bureau and see what we can do."

"Do we have an address for Mr. Thomas?" Beckett asked breathlessly.

Frost nodded as Lanie and Maura hurriedly slipped into their coats while Dean pulled the four photos of their four suspects off the murder board.

"You three go," Korsak said. "I'll get a SWAT Team on standby just in case you come up with something conclusive so we'll be ready to go at a moment's notice."

An hour later, Dean, Maura and Lanie stood hunched over the computer monitor of the Boston FBI office's resident computer geek, Stephen Sachs, a five-foot-ten inch beanpole who sported thick glasses, the remnants of untreated acne, a single stud in his right ear, and a Browncoats United t-shirt.

"All we have to do is feed Jerry Tyson's mug shot into the facial recognition software, then do the same for your other four suspects, blow up the view of their eyes, start the retina scan application and overlay each one at time to see which is a match," Sachs explained calmly. Within minutes, five sets of giant eyes were staring back at the group from his computer.

"Here we go," he said and cracked his knuckles. One by one he clicked and dragged each man's eyes over those of Jerry Tyson's. Everyone's hearts beat a little faster and their spirits sank each time a negative match popped up. But on the last attempt, the software indicated a perfect match.

"Here's your guy," Sachs said. Dean had already dialed Jane's cell phone and slapped Sachs on the shoulder as he turned to leave. Maura and Lanie thanked him profusely as well and followed Dean.

When all three were out of sight, Sachs spun himself in his desk chair like a child who has just discovered a new toy. "I'm a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar!" He fist pumped then cracked open a fresh celebratory can of Red Bull and resumed his work.

Castle, Beckett, Korsak, Jane, Dean and Frost, all wearing bulletproof vests, waited in a white minivan made up to look like something owned by a commercial painting company while the SWAT Team members fanned out around the modest-looking two story townhouse rented to Johnathan Thomas. Korsak gave the order for them to go in on his radio and the van's occupants all waited with baited breath.

The minutes felt like hours. Nobody spoke and as a result, it seemed to each person that the sound of their own heartbeat was resonating off the cold metal walls. Korsak and Frost, seated next to each other, noticed how Beckett picked up on the disconsolate look on Castle's face and nestled her hand in between their knees so she could gently rub his kneecap through his dark jeans. They also noticed how Dean kept his gaze fixed on Jane and how once she realized this and looked back at him, one corner of his mouth tipped upward. The silence, not to mention the sexual tension, was palpable.

Finally Korsak's radio crackled. "Building's clear, Sergeant. Suspects in custody." The SWAT leader reported.

"Suspects?" Castle wondered.

They filed out of the van and made their way around the corner of the block to the townhouse. They entered through the front door and found nothing really amiss until the SWAT Team leader led them to the bedroom loft. There they found Jerome Fields, Burt Nesbit and Alex Sherman, all blindfolded, bound, and gagged and sitting on mattresses which lay on the floor.

One of the SWAT members brought over a note on which letters of varying sizes, fonts, and colors had been clipped out of a magazine and pasted onto the page to form sentences. Everyone crowded around Beckett as she read Johnathan Thomas' handiwork:

_Close, Mr. Castle, but no cigar. _

_Again. _


	11. Chapter 11

_My apologies for not posting this chapter last week. I had a touch of the flu and the last thing on my mind was getting the next chapter in my latest fan fic posted. But your reward for waiting two weeks is that I'll post the next - and final - chapter tomorrow. I've also been toying around with doing an epilogue, so keep your eyes open for that. _

_My continued thanks to everyone who has reviewed, subscribed, or favorited this story. I very much appreciate it. So, here's chapter 11. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>The group turned the row house inside out looking for clues as to where its now AWOL occupant could have gone, but found nothing. Though they knew it would be in vain because of 3XK's proclivity for changing identities, they still put out an APB on him, froze his credit cards, notified Homeland Security and the State Department in case he tried to travel either domestically or internationally, and even sent dossiers to hospitals nationwide on the off chance he sought more plastic surgery. The whole group was certain, though, that they wouldn't be hearing from the serial killer for some time: he'd go underground until he could work out another way to slip back into society unnoticed and continue his murderous streak.<p>

It was around 11p.m. when everyone crowded around several tables at The Dirty Robber and tried to drown the frustration of the last few days with beer and, in Maura's case, wine. To the casual observer, they could have come from a funeral and in many ways, they felt like they did.

"He must have milked our victims for as much information as he could then put the rest together using the internet. We all know it's not hard to find someone anymore thanks to people putting their lives online." Frost said in response to Castle's question about how the killer knew where to find the men and how best to frame them for his crimes.

"So we can add kidnapping to the list of 3XK's charges as well," Beckett thought out loud.

"Looks that way," Jane said.

"He went to some pretty extraordinary lengths to keep the heat off himself though. I don't think 3XK's ever done that before." Castle put in.

"Does that mean he's getting desperate?" Lanie asked.

"Either that or he's getting overconfident that we can't catch him," Jane said.

"Which means he's likely to make a mistake since he's showing signs of two of three types of overconfidence: overestimation, where he has an inflated opinion of his own abilities, and overplacement, where he believes he's generally superior to everyone else." Maura explained.

"Really?" Jane and Beckett responded simultaneously.

"I was thinking the exact same thing," Castle joked.

After a second round of drinks arrived, the group sat in silence for a solid few minutes, lost in their own thoughts.

"I'm sorry I was wrong about Thomas." Castle broke the silence. The look on his face matched that which he wore the night he sat with Beckett by the pool of the hotel where Jerry Tyson had held him and Ryan prisoner. Beckett, sitting next to Castle, gave his arm a little squeeze.

"Nobody's perfect, Castle," Korsak said. "We're all human. And that's why we work in pairs, so different eyes will catch different angles of a case."

"I know, but I should have-"

"You know, there's no need to try to impress me anymore, Castle," Jane said. "I can see why you're such an asset to Detective Beckett and her team. You'd have made a great detective. And if there's ever anything I can do…we all can do…for you guys in the future, don't hesitate to call."

Castle beamed back at Jane and nods and grins were exchanged all around. Castle raised his beer bottle towards the center of the tables and everyone clinked in a toast.

Just then, a jazz band made up of retired Boston police officers began playing and making pleas for donations to the Boston Police Patrolmen's Association. At the end of the first song, Castle sprang up out of his chair and approached one of the two singers in the band who also played bass guitar. Beckett saw him slip his wallet out of the inside pocket of his blazer and hand the man a bill. In return, the man handed him a business card and they shook hands firmly. On his way back to the tables, Castle did a lousy job of hiding the smirk on his face.

"What did you just do?" Beckett asked, in tone of voice that part accusatory, part teasing.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "My civic duty," he replied proudly.

After Beckett cocked an eyebrow, telegraphing him the message that he didn't get off that easily, he fessed up. "I compensated the band leader handsomely if he would play a particular song then promised to make a generous donation to the association."

"Exactly how generous?" Jane asked trying to contain her excitement and surprise.

"I promised to donate a signed copy of the next Nikki Heat book, as well as a complete set of the Derek Storm series for the silent auction at their next big fundraising dinner. And lastly, I told him to get in touch with me in the future if there was anything they needed help with, like a patrolman can't pay his medical bills or a widow falls on hard times."

"That's awesome, Castle! I knew I liked this guy!" Korsak blurted out and extended his own hand which Castle gladly shook.

"Way to go to, Castle!" Frost said, and repeated Korsak's gesture.

"Is he for real?" Jane asked Beckett when she finally picked her bottom jaw up off the table.

Beckett beamed. "Unfortunately, yes." Castle shot her his best wounded puppy look, so Beckett reversed her tone since her jab to his ego had had the desired effect. "But don't go getting any ideas. We found him first." Castle grinned back at her and she winked.

"That's right," Lanie added and took a gulp of her beer.

"Ladies, ladies, I am man enough for all of you," Castle answered with mock seductiveness.

A chorus of laughter, groans, and "Oh pleases" erupted from their corner of the bar as the band struck up a slow melody.

"Speaking of ladies," Castle began and stood up from his chair. "Detective Beckett, would you honor me with a dance?"

Her cheeks pinked up slightly and a flutter burst in her stomach, but she readily agreed. She took the hand he offered and led her to a small area in front of where the band was playing and they began swaying to the rhythm, held tightly in each other's embrace.

"Seriously, Castle, that was very generous of you." Beckett muttered in the writer's ear.

"They're good people. Just like everyone at the precinct. But, I must confess, my motive in requesting the song was two-fold."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. First, to get your lovely, beautiful, sweet-smelling self in my arms; and two, to send another couple a message to get on with it already."

"Rizzoli and Dean?" Beckett asked to which Castle nodded gleefully. "You old softie," she said and kissed his cheek tenderly before resting her chin on his shoulder.

As the others watched Castle and Beckett talk and dance seemingly without pretense nor a care in the world, all thoughts of the case and their failure to corral a serial killer were put aside, at least for the time being, and an odd feeling of satisfaction fell over everyone, especially Lanie.

"It's about time," she said out loud, not caring who heard.

"I'll say."

"Right on."

"You bet," came the responses.

Then Korsak stood and offered Lanie his arm, which she accepted, and Frost did the same for Maura, who followed him to the dance floor.

As each couple left the tables, the nerves twisting inside Jane increased. When she and Dean were finally left alone watching the others enjoying themselves, she quickly finished her beer in an effort to calm herself. Dancing was never really her thing even in high school when so many of her female classmates were obsessed with who was going to prom with who, who rejected whose invitation, and so on. But this time, she found she couldn't take her eyes off the way Castle and Beckett moved together with ease, clearly oblivious to whatever anyone else might have been thinking about their interaction. How had Beckett gotten so lucky, she wondered? She not only had an intelligent, dedicated, loyal work partner, but a handsome, charming, and successful one for her personal life as well. Agent Dean certainly shared many of those same characteristics with Castle, except for the financial success, which didn't matter to Jane anyway. So what was she waiting for? What exactly was the roadblock preventing her from acting on the emotions running through her as she watched her new friends from New York hold each other?

It finally hit her. It wasn't the fact that the man wasn't in her life, it was her worry at what would happen if she took that step towards making him more than just a professional acquaintance. She envied both Beckett at Castle for having the courage to take that leap and the resultant happiness they felt from having put their feelings out in the open. How about that, Jane thought? I'm a cop who goes toe-to-toe with the slime of society and who comes from the most blunt and loud Italian family there is and I'm scared of opening myself up, especially to the one man who my gut tells me could make me happy for life.

Unbeknownst, to her, Dean was feeling the same thing. I've faced down terrorists in Afghanistan, dodged improved explosive devices on more occasions than I'd like to count, made it through The Farm's notoriously rigorous training and hunted down the worst of the worst. So why can't I ask the amazing woman sitting across from me for a simple dance?

Feeling his eyes on her, Jane turned away from the dance floor and met Dean's eyes. He glanced back down at the bottle cap he had been idly turning over in his fingers, then back at Jane, whose gaze had dropped to her lap.

The music ended and they both looked at each other, this time longing for another chance at what they saw as a missed opportunity. After a minute or so, their desire was rewarded when the band began playing another slow song. Korsak and Frost switched partners, but Beckett and Castle maintained their affectionate grip on each other.

Dean wasted no time. He stood up and walked around behind Jane's chair and extended his hand, just as Castle, Korsak and Frost had done.

"Would you care to dance, Jane?"

She thought her heart would jump out of her chest. "I, I don't know how." She answered honestly.

"No worries. Looks to me like you just…go with the flow and follow the music."

"Ok then." She said, still nervous. She took his hand and a chill ran down her spine at his touch. Finding an open spot on the dance floor, and doing all she could to ignore the self-conscious feeling brought on by knowing that six pairs of eyes were focused on her and her partner, Jane latched onto Dean as a drowning man would with a life preserver. One arm was wrapped around his shoulders, and the other extended out slightly to their sides while one of Dean's hands held Jane's back.

_I've come to tell you all the truth  
>Though you always had the proof of it.<br>My arms will grow, chest expanding.  
>Of all the boys you could have landed<br>Why'd it have to be me?_

_You...can't take my eyes off of you.  
>You...can't take my eyes off of you.<em>

As they moved slowly to the song's sensual melody, they found themselves drawn to each other. Dean moved his hand up Jane's back and she leaned further into him until her chin rested on his shoulder. Though she wasn't a sentimental or emotional person, she closed her eyes so she could be more in the moment and let herself be enveloped in the feeling of having him pressed against her.

It also prevented her from noticing the excited looks that traveled between Maura, who now danced with Korsak, and Lanie, who was now partnered with Frost. Even the guys couldn't help but notice and smile.

_Wisdom tells me to turn away.  
>Broken once, it's all the same.<br>My arms will grow, chest expanding.  
>Of all the boys you could have landed<br>Why'd it have to be me?_

Jane lifted her head from its human pillow and leaned back slightly, refusing to let her eyes make contact with Dean's. She seemed unable to catch her breath, nor to stop each of her nerves from tingling.

_You...can't take my eyes off of you.  
>You...can't take my eyes off of you.<em>

As the band harmonized the song's final notes, keeping his hand around Jane's back, Dean freed his other hand and slowly lifted Jane's chin upward with his index finger. As soon as their gazes met, all of Jane's nerves exploded inside her. Her palms began to sweat, her chest heaved as her breathing became shallower, and a ferocious, delicious energy took hold of her. She wanted to run away, but could not move. She wanted to break eye contact, but could not tear her brown eyes from his.

Oh, crap. This cannot be happening to me, she thought and began backing away from him.

Dean took hold of her upper arm and tried to think of what to do or say.

"Jane?" It was all he could muster. He searched her face for even the slightest sign that she would recover from whatever emotion that had suddenly taken her in its grip, but saw none. She looked like a scared, lost little girl.

Dammit, he thought. We've come this far and now I blew it.

Retreat was all Jane could think to do. "I…excuse me," she mumbled then made a bee-line through the slowly thinning crowd for the ladies room, leaving Dean completely deflated and alone on the dance floor.

Maura noticed a whish of dark hair fly past her and saw Jane take off, seemingly in a panic. Her concern was confirmed when she saw Dean's hang dog expression.

"Go," Frost told her and Maura hurried away in the direction Jane had gone. Frost approached Dean and clapped a hand on his shoulder as the others gathered around him, thinking maybe the Detective and Medical Examiner had gotten a call about a fresh dead body. Gabriel Dean's expression told them otherwise.

"What happened, man?" Frost asked gently.

Dean studied his shoes for a moment then looked up, hoping to see Jane snaking her way back to him wearing the million dollar smile that warmed his heart. "I think I just lost her." He said with unmistakable disappointment.


	12. Chapter 12

_So here it is, the conclusion of my first ever crossover fic. Fair warning, it gets steamy towards the end. I really appreciate everyone's reviews and subscriptions to this story. Like I said yesterday, I'm thinking about an epilogue to this, so be on the watch for it. _

_Thanks again for all your support. Enjoy!_

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><p>Maura found Jane mercifully alone in the bathroom, hunched over one of the marble sinks, trying to compose herself. She didn't look like she had been crying, but something had definitely thrown her for a very serious loop. Jane heard her enter, but ignored her until she rested what she hoped was a calming hand on her shoulder.<p>

"Jane what happened?"

"I…I don't know…"

The bathroom door squeaked and Maura saw Lanie and Beckett enter cautiously. She waved at them gently to hang back. Jane ignored them too.

"Lanie and Kate are here too. Is that ok?" Maura asked, knowing her proud friend was probably embarrassed and not wanting her to feel even more so, but also realizing that Lanie and Beckett were quite concerned and obviously wanted to help.

"It's fine," Jane said and to everyone's relief, she straightened up and rubbed her hands over her face. "I'm sorry guys. I just…"

"You don't need to explain anything, honey," Lanie reassured. "The music, the stress of the case, it all just got to you."

"Yeah. I guess it did." Jane dropped her head backwards and crossed her arms over her chest, finally feeling her breath regulating.

All three women knew something else was eating at Jane, but none had the courage to bring up the subject. Maura gave it a minute then when she realized Jane wasn't going to volunteer it herself, she spoke up.

"Jane, we're all women here," she soothed. "If something else is bothering you, I think you know you can tell us."

Jane felt a shiver run over her body as she remembered the feeling of Dean's arms around her, the warmth of his breath against her neck, and the sight of his eyes as they met hers.

"It's Gabriel, isn't it? Something happened during your dance?" Maura gently pressed.

Jane's countenance momentarily softened then she began shaking her head slowly. "I'm not ready for this."

"Ready for what?"

Jane tried to find the words to describe what she thought she felt for Dean, but faltered. It was so new she didn't know how to describe it. Beckett stepped around Lanie and Maura to Jane's other side.

"You know, the same thing happened to me with Castle the other night while Maura and Lanie were out on that call," Beckett said.

"Really? I thought you said you two had had a fight?"

"We did. But before that, we talked on Maura's couch for a while then he invited me to dance with him like he did tonight, saying it would relax me. And it certainly did, because we kissed a real kiss for the first time. And in that moment, we realized we loved each other."

Jane smiled at Beckett weakly, but sincerely. "That's great, Kate. Congratulations."

"Thanks," she paused. "So, we all know you and Dean danced…"

Jane closed her eyes tightly and rubbed her face again. "I don't…I don't know what this is. I don't know what to do about it either."

"Call it what it is, Jane: love." Lanie encouraged, but Jane was still reluctant.

Now Beckett put a hand on Jane's shoulder as Maura and Lanie scooted closer. "Speaking as someone who for three years fought the same feelings you're fighting right now, take it from me. If you love him, tell him. Don't waste any more time."

Jane smiled again as Beckett gave her a little hug. Maura hugged Jane's other side too and laid her free arm on Lanie's shoulder, completing the group hug.

"How does it feel?" Maura asked after a minute or so of silence.

Jane exhaled deeply. "Like nothing I've ever felt before."

"Then what are you gonna do about it?"

* * *

><p>Around midnight, Jane finally arrived in her apartment, fed her dog, Jo Friday, went to her bedroom, changed into a cami, hoodie, and flannel pajama pants and flopped backwards onto her bed. She was exhausted in every way possible, but could not shut her mind off. Interspersed with details of the case, were images of Dean's bright penetrating eyes. She shut out the faint sounds of Jo Friday gobbling his dinner in the kitchen and remembered their dance, when they first met, and their first date: a casual dinner at The Dirty Robber. They both basically had admitted that they liked the other that night, only Jane had said she wasn't ready for a relationship with him: she knew he would be constantly worried about her and she couldn't handle that. Dean had agreed and a firm peck goodnight on Jane's cheek had developed into a passionate kiss before Jane had stopped herself and Dean, respecting her wishes, had walked away.<p>

She was just letting the warm memory of his lips on hers wash over her when a knock sounded on her front door.

Instantly alert, she rose from the bed and crept over to the top drawer of her dresser to retrieve her backup handgun. Her experience as a cop had taught her that anyone who called at this hour of night was coming over for coffee and bagels. She looked through the peep hole and her heart both sank and skipped a beat. She pulled open the door to find Gabriel Dean looking back at her.

"Hey."

"Hey. May I come in? Please?"

"Everything alright?"

"I hope so." And there was the look that pierced right through her.

Jane stepped aside so he could enter.

"Would you give me a sec?" He nodded and she walked back to the bedroom to replace her gun in its drawer. She ran both hands through her hair, took in a deep breath, and rejoined him.

"What's up?"

"I'm sorry I left the bar early. I just felt like it was best." Dean explained. When Jane had emerged from the bathroom at The Dirty Robber with Lanie, Beckett, and Maura in tow, she found Dean had gone already. She was partially relieved, but also slightly disappointed. The group then broke up and headed back to their respective lodgings for the night.

"It's ok. I'm sorry for freaking out like I did."

"I understand." He said.

Their eyes met again and the feeling that Jane felt when they danced earlier burst forth once more. She longed to feel him around her, not just near her, and not necessarily in a sexual way. Just to have him hold her would be all she wanted, all she needed to confirm that he felt the same thing she did. For the first time, she wasn't afraid of someone, especially him, getting inside her head and felt comfortable, almost safe, with the idea, unlike before when it had unnerved her. But she also didn't see how any kind of a relationship with Dean could work out. She lived in Boston and he in DC. Long distance relationships, in particular those between law enforcement officers, never worked.

Dean finally broke the eye contact and idly rocked back and forth on his heels. "Ok, well…I just wanted to check on you before heading on my way."

Jane's heart swelled and it took all of the energy she had left to keep from launching herself into his arms. "I appreciate that, really. Thank you. So, I guess this is it…again." She managed a weak, but warm smile in spite of herself. "Thanks for your help with the case and take care of yourself."

Dean nodded. "You too, Jane. No more reports about you shooting yourself."

Jane chuckled and headed to her front door. As she passed him, her shoulder brushed against his and he could no longer maintain his silence. It's now or never, he thought. As Jane's hand took hold of the door knob, his clamped down on hers. "Jane, wait a second. There's something I've wanted to tell you, but with the case and how we left things before, I didn't know if it was the right time."

"What do you mean?" Jane's insides twisted. Here it comes, she thought. He's gonna dump me.

"I'm transferring to Boston. I got a spot in the field office here working with a unit that specializes in investigating serial killers and cold cases that cross state lines. It was just one of those offers you can't refuse."

To say Jane was taken aback would be putting it mildly. She suddenly felt the hole that she had thought had been opening up at her feet and threatening to swallow her disappear. Could it be possible? Could they really have a chance? No, she corrected herself. Just because he's based here doesn't mean he'll be waiting by the phone for you to call after a bad day. He'll probably be traveling all over the country and you'll barely see him like you do now. Calm down, sister!

"That's great," she choked out. "Congratulations. So I guess our paths will cross a little more often?"

"I hope so. You know I've missed you. Ever since…" He broke off, not wanting to violate her boundaries then changed his mind and threw caution to the wind. Before Jane knew what was happening, he had moved closer to her, way too close. She could feel the heat generated by his hand on top of hers and wanted to escape, but couldn't. Her head was reeling trying to process what he had said in the last several minutes. Or was it his cologne, his handsome face, his warm breath mingling with hers…

He brought a hand up to cup her cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb and making all of her nerves tingle. Then he leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her other cheek. He lingered over her for a minute, trying to memorize the smell of her hair, the curve of her neck, and everything about her.

"Goodnight, Jane." He said and opened the door.

What the heck was that, Jane thought. He tells me he's gonna be working here close by, kisses me and gets all lovey-dovey, then it's 'Gee, thanks. See ya'? She had had it. She needed to put a name on whatever it was they were. Enough with this dance they were doing around each other. Plus, it seemed that a job was not the only reason Gabriel had transferred to Boston. He was in the hall way by the time she spoke.

"Gabriel," she called. He turned expectantly on his heel. "We need to talk."

He stepped back inside, unable to decide if he felt like a man on his way to the guillotine or to scoring the winning lottery numbers. Judging by the frustrated look on Jane's face, he concluded it was the former. "Should I take my coat off?" He asked directly, trying to gauge how long she thought their conversation might take.

"It's up to you," she replied and he slipped the coat off and draped it over a kitchen chair. "What's going on here? I mean what are we doing? And why do I get the impression that you didn't just arrange a transfer to Boston because it was a great career opportunity?" Jane asked, her fatigue and confusion making her come across as more aggressive than she wanted. On the other hand, she thought, it might make her point more clearly.

"Alright," Gabriel admitted, feeling oddly confident against the daggers Jane's eyes were shooting. "It's true. I was hoping we could spend more time together, time that didn't involve a case related to Charles Hoyt or some other serial killer. I want us to get to know each other, Jane, so when the job came around, I took it."

"And when were you gonna get around to telling me? Like I said the other day, I thought you weren't interested."

"I was, Jane. I still am. I always have been, truth be known, but you said you weren't ready, so I gave you space."

Jane put on her best confused face. "And how exactly does your moving to Boston give me more space?"

"Jane, I'm not asking to move in with you right now! It's just when something feels right, you gotta go with it!"

Jane knew exactly what he meant when he said being together felt right. She'd felt it too, but she'd pushed it away out of fear.

"Look Jane, you're no picnic, ok. I figured that out in the first five minutes after we met. But I think…I know there's another side to you. And that's a side I'd really like to get to know, but you seem only to reserve it for friends and crime victims instead of for the people who could really make you happy. Yes, you're irritable, stubborn, tough, and freakishly intense, but you're also caring, intelligent, empathetic, driven…and beautiful."

A knot formed in Jane's throat making her momentarily unable to speak. To think the handsome and enigmatic Gabriel Dean thought she was beautiful. "You're pretty amazing yourself. If for no other reason than because you've put up with me at my worst moments."

"True, but we've had other moments. Like our first date, our first kiss."

The warm feeling that had been building in Jane multiplied exponentially.

"Even though you'd had a really bad day, you still looked amazing. All this time, I couldn't forget your brilliant smile, your long dark hair…"

He moved closer.

"Your clear skin…"

He softly took her face in his hands.

"And eyes so bright and full of fire that they could light up a moonless night, but dark and deep enough that a man could easily lose himself in them."

He brought his mouth to hers and she almost fainted from the surge in energy that shot through her body. Her arms coiled around his back automatically, holding him close to her. Their mouths moved together slowly and deeply.

Dammit, if he was trying to make her fall in love with him, he was doing a great job. This was exactly what Jane wanted to avoid, but it was also secretly what she craved every time she came home late at night to any empty apartment and every time she couldn't sleep at night and imagined him in bed next to her kissing her like he did that night in The Dirty Robber.

Then it hit her like a bolt of lightning: this was what she wanted. Damn the fact that both of them could step out the front door on their way to work and never come back. She wanted, not just the physical relationship, but to have someone to come home to who knew what she went through on a daily basis and who would just hold her and be there for her. And she could be there for him. The sense of failure she felt at having 3XK slip through her fingers was long forgotten. How could she focus on that when there was this incredible connection to this equally incredible man to be cultivated? And if she felt this damn good after that failure, how could she possibly lose with him in her life from now on. For the first time in a long time, she felt tears backing up in her throat.

They broke off the kiss and panted to catch their breath. He looked her straight in the eyes, as he had tonight as they danced and again at her front door, while tracing slow circles on her cheeks with his thumbs. "All I'm asking for is a chance, Jane. We'll take things a day at time. God knows, our schedules are crazy enough, so promises make no sense. And if you decide this still isn't what you want, or that you're not ready, we'll deal with it. But we'll never know unless we try. "

There it was. He had laid himself out there for her and hadn't made her commit to anything. They were free to build something on their own terms, do it their own way without a care as to what everyone else thought. Sure she could end up hurt, but so could he. Oh, but she didn't want that to happen. The least she could do was try just as hard to make it work. And she truly, even desperately, wanted it to work. She had never felt more serious about anyone in her life.

"If we do this, I have just one ground rule: no sweet stuff at crime scenes or at the precinct. It's hard enough being the only woman in homicide and the Crowes of the world don't need any more ammo."

"Agreed," Gabriel answered and couldn't help but grin.

Jane smiled too and felt a naughty thrill as she seductively undid his tie and tossed it on the floor. "Now that that's settled, I'm gonna need you to kiss me again." She tilted her head and leaned in. "Or else." God, being close to him was intoxicating, especially now that they were together.

"Or else what?" He teased inching his mouth closer to hers.

"Or else I'll arrest you."

"Hand cuffs and all?"

"You got it." Jane brushed her lips over his. The tension between them was unbearable.

"Another offer I can't refuse."

"Shut up and do what you're told."

At last, they melted together, her arms curling around his neck and his wrapping around her waist. They kissed hungrily, letting the slow-burning fire coursing through their veins guide their movements. After tasting each other for a full minute, Gabriel moved to Jane's neck and his hands crept underneath her blouse. She pulled back and moved her long fingers down to his strong chest to begin unbuttoning his dress shirt. She slipped it over his shoulders and it joined his tie on the kitchen floor. He gasped quietly as she ran her scarred palms down over his chiseled chest to his waist, where she teased him by letting them linger just under his belt. She then ran them achingly slow up his sides and over his shoulders before finally stopping in his thick black hair.

"You know when I was describing you before, I forgot to add that you're ridiculously sexy," he whispered.

"Me too."

They united again for a third kiss, only this time they held nothing back. Their tongues escaped into the other's mouth and both moaned with urgency. Finally, Dean tilted Jane backwards, placed a hand under her upper back and one under the backside of her knees and lifted her in his arms. She nuzzled his neck and nipped at his ear, causing him to almost drop her as he carried her to her bedroom.

* * *

><p>An hour later, they both lay entwined in Jane's queen sized bed blissfully satisfied and on the edge of sleep. Jane turned in Dean's arms to face him and gently stroked his cheek. His eyes opened slowly and he lazily ran a hand up her thigh under the covers.<p>

"I love you," Jane said without a thought in her head.

"I love you too, Jane," Dean said. "I always have."

He dashed the dazzling smile from her face and a tear of joy from her cheek by pulling her to him for another kiss.


	13. Epilogue

_Hi everyone. So sorry it's taken me so long to finish this story. I always had the general framework of this epilogue in my mind even when I wrote the story last year, I just needed to figure out how I wanted it to go more specifically and then get the wherewithal to actually write it down. _

_So here it is - the epilogue. Thank you to everyone for sticking with this story. Enjoy and please review!_

* * *

><p>The wrought iron gate swung open and the dark colored Crown Victoria with Massachusetts license plates slipped through and up the gravel drive which was lined with tall green hedges. The drive curved slightly to the left and ended at a white brick car port suitable for about five vehicles. The Crown Victoria parked next to a familiar black Lexus, and its occupants climbed out.<p>

"Why did I agree to this?" Jane grumbled, a faint tinge panic showing in her voice.

Gabriel came up behind her and began gently rubbing her shoulders. "Because this is what friends who don't live in the same state do. They visit each other at other's houses."

"I know, but you know it makes me uncomfortable being around rich people. And don't make it sound like I never socialize with anyone but cops." She shot back, poking him in the chest with her index finger.

"May I remind you, you don't socialize with anyone but cops."

"I do too!" Jane protested. "I socialize with you and Maura…and…" Gabriel cocked an eyebrow and fixed his girlfriend with an earnest stare that he knew made her melt. "Oh shut up and don't look at me like that. You know what that look does to me." A smile crept onto her face and her eyes, hard and hot a minute ago, turned soft.

"Remind me what it does to you again?" Gabriel asked and stepped closer to wrap his arms around Jane's waist.

"It makes me want to do this," she whispered and took his face gently in both hands and kissed him softly, but firmly.

"Oh right! Now I remember," Gabriel teased and got a playful punch in the arm in return. He popped the trunk and both slung stuffed overnight bags over their shoulders. Gabriel also pulled out a case of Corona while Jane picked up two bottles of wine, one red and the other white since she had been unsure what her friends from New York preferred. They shut the trunk, locked the car, and made their way towards the main house's front door.

"At least it's more modest than I expected," Jane observed. The house was, like the carport, white brick with navy blue shutters. The second story looked to consist of one room, perhaps the master the bedroom that looked out over the front of the house. Two doors opened up onto a small balcony under which was the front door. Another more spacious balcony looked to wrap around the other three sides of the house. Overall, the effect was classy and relaxing, but not overly upscale.

Jane rang the front door bell and took a deep breath.

"Relax. You saw Maura's already here." Gabriel soothed.

"I know. I'll be ok. It's Castle and Beckett and the guys from the station all up here for a relaxing weekend in the Hamptons." Jane told herself, feeling her blood pressure back off.

But when the door opened, it spiked again.

"Hello, hello, hello! Welcome to the Hamptons dear friends! Come in, please!" Martha trilled enthusiastically and gestured inside grandly with her arms. Though it was mid-afternoon, she had a half-empty flute of champagne in one hand and a fan in another. She was dressed in a modestly cut but riotously colorful swimsuit and a shiny thin cover up. Large round sunglasses were perched on her head.

Having recovered from the initial shock of meeting someone who seemed to exemplify the word diva, Jane dropped her bags and passed Martha the bottles of wine.

"Why thank you, dear. You must be Detective Rizzoli and you must be Agent Dean." She said, pointing at each of them with a flourish.

"Yes, they are, Mother, but this weekend is for relaxation. So I'm sure they wouldn't mind it if you called them Jane and Gabriel?" Castle asked then bussed Jane on the cheek, shook Gabriel's hand and relieved him of the Corona.

"Allow me to introduce my mother, Martha Rodgers," Castle said.

"Thank you, Richard. And may I say, it's always a pleasure to meet fine officers of the law in a setting that doesn't involve bailing my son out of prison."

"Mother, you promised you wouldn't embarrass me."

"I promised I wouldn't embarrass our guests, dear. You are not a guest." Martha trilled and excused herself to chill the bottles of wine. Castle rolled his eyes and did his best to chase the pink color from his cheeks. Fortunately, he was saved by a young redhead.

"Sorry, Dad. I was just finalizing plans for tonight with the girls."

"No worries, hon. This is Detective Jane Rizzoli and FBI Special Agent Gabriel Dean. Jane and Gabriel, my daughter Alexis." After handshakes were exchanged, Alexis showed them to the room where they would sleeping so they could get their things settled, freshen up, and change into their swim suits.

By the time Jane and Gabriel came back downstairs, Castle had made up a platter of hamburgers, hot dogs, and vegetables for grilling, and had stuffed large bowls of potato salad, chicken salad, and fruit salad into the large stainless steel refrigerator of the house's kitchen for dinner later. He led to outside to the patio. A large grill sat in the far left corner under an umbrella and was angled to face a comfortable looking patio set that could fit six people. To the right of the grill on the ground, the case of Corona had been emptied into a cooler filled with ice which sat next to another cooler full of beer. Music from hidden stereo speakers wafted on the air past several lounge chairs, on which one, to Jane's relief, Maura was relaxing and talking intermittently to Lanie. The lounge chairs were arranged comfortably around a large swimming pool that had been divided in half widthwise. The shallow end, in turn, was bisected with a short volleyball net. Gabriel followed Castle to the beer cooler, so Jane headed for the lounge chair next to Lanie.

"How was the ME's conference, guys?" Jane asked, after hugging both women in greeting.

"Wonderful!" Maura answered with her characteristic enthusiasm. "My favorite part was the seminar on new the new technology to determine burn degrees."

"Nice," Jane said flatly and quickly put the image of charred skin out of her mind. "What'd you think, Lanie?"

"That was a good presentation. But, I admit I was more interested in the presenter." She chuckled coyly.

"Excuse me?" A voice from behind Jane demanded, startling her slightly. "Ryan, did the sexy Medical Examiner in the smokin' hot bathing suit just say that a guy other than the one with whom she is currently pursuing a relationship caught her eye?"

"Sounded like it to me, partner."

"It wasn't like that, you two." Lanie protested, not taking the bait. "A cousin of mine just moved up here after getting divorced and I thought the guy could show her around, and if nothing else, take her mind off being newly single in a new area. I'd met him before at another conference in New York, so I got his number so they could connect."

The two men, one being Hispanic and well-built and the other Caucasian and slightly shorter than the first, exchanged serious looks.

"What do you think, Javi? Hook her up to the lie detector when we get back?"

"Definitely."

"Oh my Lord, you two never quit do you? Jane, Maura, in case you haven't already guessed, these two pranksters are Detectives Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan." Lanie stood and slipped an arm around Esposito's waist.

"Yeah, I figured. Nice to meet you both." Jane said and shook hands with both men. Maura followed suit.

As Lanie and Esposito pecked each other on the lips, Ryan offered to get everyone a drink from the coolers. After making note of their requests, he headed over to the coolers, but deviated off course to hug Martha, who was uncorking another bottle of wine. After being kissed on both cheeks by the ex-Broadway diva, Ryan helped Korsak and Frost fill a third cooler with ice and bottles of water.

As she watched Korsak and Frost shake hands with Castle and Gabriel then each become enveloped in a hug from Martha while Alexis talked excitedly with Maura, Jane couldn't help but grin. My how things had changed since 3XK had traveled from New York to Boston and dropped more murders in her lap. She had finally given in to her feelings for Gabriel, in no small part thanks to Castle and Beckett's example, but she had also gained more friends. And odd as she felt enjoying herself in the glitzy, glamorous Hamptons at the summer home of a world-famous and filthy rich writer, she couldn't deny that somehow it just felt right.

"I know how you feel," Jane turned around as yet another voice came up behind her. Beckett looked at her reassuringly as she slipped out of a white linen cover-up shirt and tossed it on the lounge chair next to that which Jane had claimed. She now wore matching linen pants over a fire-engine red monokini that fit her so well that Jane became slightly self conscious about the simple navy blue two-piece she wore under her t-shirt and sweat shorts.

"What do you mean?" Jane asked.

"You're thinking what an odd bunch all your blue collar friends are with Richard Castle, the world famous murder mystery writer and his mother, former Tony award nominee, Martha Rodgers and you're trying to wrap your mind around the idea that you're actually here at their house and you and all your friends are having a really good time. Am I right?"

"Pretty much," Jane nodded and couldn't suppress a chuckle. "I'm usually uncomfortable around rich people, but they're…real."

"All right, who's up for a game of volleyball?" Castle called out. "How about New York versus Boston? I'll bet the Big Apple beats Beantown!" And when a chorus of boos erupted from the Boston contingent surrounding him, he retaliated by doing a cannonball into the shallow end of the pool.

"Among other things," Beckett joked and both women laughed.

* * *

><p>An hour later, after Boston had upset New York, the ladies team of Maura, Jane, Lanie, and Beckett lined up in formation across the net from Ryan, Esposito, Castle and Gabriel. The men got off to a good start, with Castle taking advantage of Lanie's diminutive size and putting several serves just out of her reach. Finally, she and Beckett got wise to his strategy and devised a diversion of sorts.<p>

"Is anybody else getting really hot?" Beckett asked nobody in particular. When she got no definitive response, Lanie joined in, according to their plan.

"You know, if you're getting hot, honey, you really should get out and get some water. I don't want to have to do CPR on you, especially in this outfit."

"I'll volunteer!" Castle shouted.

Got you right where I want you, Beckett thought.

"I know Lanie, but this pool water just feels so good," Beckett said and began rather seductively lifting water in her cupped hands to spill all over herself. Jane and Maura figured out what she was doing and could only smirk. In fact, Beckett's performance was so effective that even the happily married Ryan had to turn away slightly to hide his flushed cheeks. For her finale, Beckett bent her knees and lowered herself until she was neck deep in the water then slowly rose to reveal inch by inch her now very clingy and very wet suit. Castle called out the score and served the ball, but the damage was done. The ball sailed clear over Lanie's head where it bounced on the patio and knocked over the beer Korsak had been drinking as he chatted with Martha.

"Nice one, Dad," Alexis, their referee, observed. "Ladies ball."

After that, the women mounted an impressive comeback until the score stood at a tie and the men sought revenge of their own. Ryan had the serve with Esposito next to him and Gabriel and Castle at the net. On the other side, Beckett and Jane were up front with Lanie and Maura behind them. Ryan served, but instead of directing the ball over the net, he hit it off his thumb at an odd angle and it shot straight into the back of Castle's head.

"Oof" he murmured, then pitched face first into the water. But instead of surfacing after a moment as everyone expected him to, he just hovered limply on the bottom of the pool.

"Dad!" Alexis yelled, but Beckett was quicker than anyone. She dove under, grasped Castle under his armpits and heaved him upwards. She then dragged him to a set of stairs in the corner and sat him down as the others crowded around.

"Castle! You ok?" She called and panic began to sink in as she leaned closer to his face to make sure his eyes hadn't rolled back into his head. Seizing the moment, he grasped her around the waist and pulled her lips to his for a long kiss that, despite the fact that she was standing in water, still managed to rock her back on her heels.

"Now we're even, you minx." He said against her mouth. The women groaned, the guys laughed, and Beckett swore.

"I hate you, you know." She said trying to be serious, but giving in when she saw the playfulness tinged with lust in his eyes.

"Always?" Castle asked.

"Always."

* * *

><p>The sun had set, food had been eaten, and more wine and beer consumed. Alexis had gone to meet some girlfriends for dinner and a movie, so the adults moved the party to the second floor balcony. Castle changed the music from peppy and upbeat pop and rock songs to slow and smooth jazz. He dimmed the balcony lights and set out some citronella candles for an added romantic effect.<p>

He then took Beckett's hand and led her into a large empty space he had cleared for dancing. She rested her chin on his left shoulder, wrapped her left arm around his upper back and let him hold her right hand close to his chest to feel his heartbeat. The warm night breeze mingled with his breath to caress her cheek. They didn't talk, but just enjoyed feeling each other's closeness. Gradually, other couples joined them: Lanie and Esposito, Korsak and Martha, Ryan and Jenny, who had arrived in time for dinner after working late in the city, Maura and Frost, and finally Gabriel and Jane.

"What's the matter?" Gabriel, sensing Jane's thoughtfulness, asked as they swayed gently to the music.

"I was thinking earlier about how funny life can be."

"How so?"

"Well, I'm sure if you had told Beckett when she was a kid that she would become a Homicide detective, she'd have never believed you, just like if you had told me a year ago that I'd be dancing in your arms on Richard Castle's back porch at his house in the Hamptons I'd have laughed in your face."

"Ah, I see," Gabriel said and pulled Jane a little closer to him. "That's life for you. Just fasten your seatbelt and enjoy the ride."

Jane leaned back a little to look Gabriel in those beautiful dark eyes which always made her heart skip a beat. "I am. You know, high school was a nightmare for me, but one thing I've always remembered was this poster that hung in one classroom. It showed a person walking on a path that forked in two directions in the woods and quoted Robert Frost. 'Two roads diverged in a wood and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.'"

Who are you and what have you done with Jane Rizzoli was Gabriel's first thought. While he knew the tough, intense woman in his arms had a pensive and soft side, her comment took him by surprise because she so rarely gave that side a voice. But he resisted the temptation to step on the tender moment and instead smiled. "That's one of my favorites too."

"As crazy as my life gets and as unexpected as the last six months with you have been, I'm glad we're here and that we're, you know, us. I'm glad I took the road less traveled, especially since it led me to you." Both their hearts swelled for each other, but before Gabriel could do anything, Jane moved in and kissed him passionately without any regard to the ten people nearby or to the razzing she could get if Korsak and Frost spilled the beans to anyone back at the precinct. Her hands came up and gently stroked his cheeks while his arms curled around her back. One by one, the five couples surrounding them took notice and drew away, leaving Jane and Gabriel alone in the middle of the floor with each other.

* * *

><p>Across the bay from Castle's house, a man crouched on the floor of what had once been a spacious tree house, and studied the figures on the rear second story deck of Richard Castle's house through high powered binoculars.<p>

"Enjoy yourself now, everyone," the serial killer known as 3XK said to himself. "Because you ain't seen nothing yet."


End file.
